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OLIVEE GOLDSMITH 



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GOLDSMITH'S 

THE TRAVELLER 

' AND 

THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY 

HORATIO NELSON DRURY 

\ 

INSTRUCTOR IN ENGLISH IN THE STUYVESANT HIGH SCHOOL, NEW YORK CITY 

FORMERLY HEAD OF THE DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH IN THE STATE 

NORMAL SCHOOL AT CORTLAND, N. Y. 




D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK CHICAGO 

1909 



LiSRARY of congress! 

I Two Gocies Received 

I IVlAh j8 1^09 

t Copyrifc-nl Entry 
I cuss Ow AAc, Mo. I 
COPY !3. 



Copyright, 1909, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



PEEFACE 

In this edition of The Traveller and Tlie Deserted Vil- 
lage an attempt has been made to view the problem of an- 
notation from two standpoints — that of the teacher and 
that of the pupil. No edition can take the place of an 
earnest teacher, and the editor assumes at the outset that 
every teacher will interpret what is said about method to 
suit his own ideas and local conditions. 

There has been no attempt to adhere exactly to the text 
of any special edition of either poem, though the text 
of The Traveller, aside from certain alterations in punctu- 
ation and spelling, and the writing out in full of final 
"ed,^^ is that of the ninth edition, published in 1774; 
while the text of The Deserted Village follows much more 
closely that of the fifth edition, published in 1770. 

The editor is, of course, under very definite obligations 
to preceding editions of Goldsmith^s poems, though he has 
taken care to acknowledge such obligations wherever the 
matter quoted did not seem common property. For many 
helpful suggestions the editor^s special thanks are extended 
to Miss Harriet Day, A. B., Associate Teacher of English 
in the Cortland, N. Y., Normal School; to Samuel E. 
Weber, Ph. D., High School Superintendent of Louisiana, 
and to Mr. Frederick H. Law, Head of the Department 
of English in the Stuyvesant High School, N. Y. City. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction 9 

Life of Goldsmith 9 

Goldsmith the Man 15 

Literary Conditions . . . . . . . . . . .17 

Goldsmith the Poet 19 

The Traveller 20 

The Deserted Village 23 

The Traveller 29 

Dedication 29 

The Traveller 31 

The Deserted Village 46 

Dedication . 46 

The Deserted Village 48 

Notes 64 

The Traveller . ." 64 

The Deserted Village 74 

Suggestive Material for the Teacher . . . . .88 

In General 88 

Outline 91 

Themes . 92 

Questions 93 

Bibliography .95 



IlSrTKODUCTION 

LIFE OF GOLDSMITH 

Birth and Parentage. — Oliver Goldsmith was born No- 
vember 10, 1728, in Pallas, a lonely little village about ten 
miles southeast of Limerick, in Ireland. The family of 
Goldsmith, though of English descent, had for some gen- 
erations been settled in Ireland. The poet^s father, the 
Eeverend Charles Goldsmith, was a country curate of the 
Established Church, "passing rich on forty pounds a 
year,^^ although he had to provide for eight children, of 
whom Oliver was the fifth. When Oliver was about two 
years old, his father succeeded to a more lucrative living 
at Lissoy, County Westmeath, and here the poet's boy- 
hood was spent. 

Education. — Oliver's systematic education began when 
he was only three years old. His first teacher was a Miss 
Elizabeth Delap, a relative of the Goldsmiths, who used to 
assemble the young children of the village and try to 
teach them their letters. Apparently little "Noll" did 
not take kindly to his studies, for Miss Delap often spoke 
of his dullness and his laziness. At the age of six young 
Oliver entered the village school, the master of which, 
Thomas, irreverently known as " Paddy," Byrne, pedantic 
and eccentric, yet not unlikable and a great story-teller, is 
forever immortalized in The Deserted Village, Here, too, 
the poet displayed little liking for the routine of school 
work, though his budding fondness for books was noticed. 
From this time on he was entered at this school and that, 
with his record always the same, " an indifferent student 
and fond oi leckless pranks." 

9 



10 INTRODUCTION 

Unfortunately for fond hopes, his career at Trinity 
College, Dublin, whither he was sent June 11, 1745, was 
no more distinguished. Owing to scarcity of means at 
home, Oliver had to enter college as a sizar, — a student 
employed in menial tasks about the college to defray his 
expenses in whole or in part. This was a blow to his 
pride, and, had it not been for the persuasions of his 
Uncle Thomas Contrarine, Oliver would have refused to 
apply for entrance. 

Studying when and what he saw fit, and always devis- 
ing frolics and gayeties to while away the time, he natu- 
rally fell into disfavor with his teachers. It is said that 
on one occasion when the poet-to-be was entertaining in 
his quarters some of his town acquaintances of both sexes, 
a certain Wilder, Goldsmith^s tutor, burst in the door and 
knocked his pupil down, and that the latter, sorely humil- 
iated, Ifeft college, never expecting to return. Through the 
good offices of his brother Henry, however, he finally went 
back to take his degree in 1749, graduating as he had en- 
tered, the lowest in the list. 

Attempts at Various Professions. — Goldsmith was now 
twenty-one and dependent upon his own talents ; his father 
had died during Oliver^s college course; his mother was 
living upon a meagre pittance at Ballymahon; and his 
brother Henry, having married and succeeded to the curacy 
at Pallas, was trying to get along on forty pounds a year. 
But there was Uncle Contrarine, who had been a staunch 
friend to his nephew, and to him Oliver turned for advice 
and funds, — chiefly the latter. A University man and a 
Goldsmith, of course Oliver must enter the Church,-^ a 
dictum of the nucleus in which the nephew finally, though 
somewhat reluctantly, acquiesced. Then followed the usual 
two years of probation, which the young candidate for or- 
ders put to such scant account, except in the gratification 
of his taste for reading, that the examining bishop found 
him " unqualified " for admission into the clergy. At the 



INTRODUCTION 11 

solicitation of anxious relatives Oliver then tried the law, 
with spasmodic attempts at teaching as an avocation. 

Three out of the four "learned professions" had now 
been tried and found wanting; one only was left — med- 
icine. Accordingly, supported by his uncle, in the fall of 
1752 Oliver found himself in Edinburgh, enrolled as a 
'' student of physic " at the University. Here he did a lit- 
tle studying — be it said to his credit — but as usual his 
claim to distinction lay along other channels — as a dandy 
in dress, as a wit and practical joker, and as a leader in 
wild and foolish pranks. At the end of two years, how- 
ever, Edinburgh's stock of excitement beginning to pall, 
Oliver took it into his head to go abroad, and, again aided 
by his uncle, embarked for Leyden. 

Wanderings. — The record of Goldsmith's wanderings 
survives chiefly in his writings, especially in The Vicar of 
Wakefield and The Traveller, and from them one may trace 
his line of travel with some accuracy. In the winter of 
1755 he was in Leyden making a pretense at study, but in 
reality spending most of his time and money at gambling, 
then the national vice of Holland. His funds giving out 
and the desire to wander again making its appeal, he 
set out on foot for a journey through Europe, the whims 
of fancy his only guide. 

It is known that he passed through Antwerp, Maestricht 
and Brussels. In Paris he lingered for a time, possibly 
pursuing medical courses. Then he appeared in the lecture 
halls of some of Germany's most famous universities. 
Switzerland he visited next, staying a time in Basle, Berne 
and Geneva. Upper Italy then lured him on, for his pen 
tells of sojourns at Florence, Verona, Mantua, Milan, Ca- 
rinthia and Padua; it is possible, too, that he tarried in 
Eome. How the wanderer paid his way is a matter of in- 
teresting conjecture, since he started out from Leyden with 
only a guinea in his pocket. Perhaps he taught his native 
language now and then; no doubt he tried gambling; but 



12 INTRODUCTION 

his chief dependence was on his flute and songs, with 
which he charmed the peasants into hospitality. Ac- 
cording to Boswell, Johnson's talkative biographer. Gold- 
smith used to pick up a meal or a night's lodging at this 
university or that, by ^' disputing/' after the custom of the 
Middle Ages, on some question of philosophy or ethics. 
Soon this life of idle roving began to pall, for in February, 
1756, after an absence of a little over a year, the poet-to-be 
was once more walking the streets of London, this time pen- 
niless and in rags, but with a medical degree, conferred no- 
body knows how nor where, possibly at Louvain in Belgium. 

Life in London. — The years immediately following Gold- 
smith's arrival in London were full of shift and makeshift. 
A doctor with no patients, a chemist's clerk with long hours 
and short pay, an usher in boarding schools with life made 
miserable by his gawky appearance and diffident tempera- 
ment, a bookseller's hack grinding out prefaces and reviews 
and criticisms with little hope of literary fame, — his oc- 
cupations were various, and were followed in turn from 
sheer necessity. But better things were in store. The ease 
and grace of his style brought him in 1761 the acquaintance 
of Dr. Samuel Johnson and other eminent men of letters, 
and a competency by means of the pen seemed a possi- 
bility. He took a suite of rooms in the Temple, famed as 
the quarters of law-clerks, and a little later, in company 
with a Mr. Bott, a friend interested in literature, rented 
a country home on Edgware Eoad. In 1764 the famous 
Literary Club was started with Goldsmith as one of the nine 
charter members ; the others were Burke, Eeynolds, Nugent, 
Langton, Beauclerc, Chamier, Hawkins and Johnson. 
Of the club Macaulay says : *' The verdicts pronounced 
by this conclave on new books were speedily known all over 
London, and were sufficient to sell off a whole edition in a 
day, or to condemn the sheets to the service of the trunk- 
maker and the pastry-cook." 

Literary Work. — Goldsmith's first literary venture was 



INTRODUCTION 13 

the contribution of critical articles to The Monthly Review, 
a half-literary and a half-political periodical published by 
one Griffiths, with whom Goldsmith took up his abode, at 
the sign of the Dunciad, Paternoster Row. This engage- 
ment was dissolved at the end of five months, for Griffiths 
was a driving taskmaster. Goldsmith then joined forces 
with Dr. Smollett, the famous novelist, and wrote for The 
Critical Review, the leading Tory organ of the day. In 
1759 he published his Inquiry into the Present State of 
Polite Learning in Europe, a work wide in scope for that 
day and readable even now because of the charm of its 
style. In the same year he launched The Bee, one of the 
many periodicals of the 18th century similar in plan and 
purpose to The Tatler and The Spectator, became a con- 
tributor to The Bu^y-body, and for a time edited The 
Ladies* Magazine, His " Chinese Letters," in which a 
Chinese student keenly examines many phases of European 
life, were published in 1763 under the title of A Citizen of 
the World, 

Goldsmith also wrote several biographies and histories, 
which are read to-day only because of the excellence of his 
style, as much of his subject matter is worthless. The Life 
of Beau Nash came from the press in 1762 ; a History of 
England, in 1763 ; a History of Rome, in 1769 ; the Life of 
Thomas Parnell and the Life of Lord BolinghroJce, in 
1770; a History of Greece, in 1773. A History of Ani- 
mated Nature was left unfinished at his death. The made- 
to-order seal is set upon all these works, written, as they 
were, upon the spur of necessity. The enduring fame of 
their author is grounded upon his pastoral novel, The 
Vicar of Wahe field (1776) ; his two clever comedies. The 
Good Natured Man (1763), and She Stoops to Conquer 
(1773); and his two poems. The Traveller (1764), and 
The Deserted Village (1770). In these products of Gold- 
smith's pen the joy, rather than the necessity, of writing 
is the distinguishing mark. 



14 INTRODUCTION 

Death and Burial. — Goldsmith died of a fever in April, 
1774, barely forty-five years of age. The news of his death 
was received by all who knew him with the deepest sor- 
row. Burke burst into tears; Sir Joshua Keynolds laid 
aside his brush ; newspapers and magazines were filled with 
tributes to his memory; and, above all, the miserable out- 
casts who had been befriended by the poet's tenderness, 
voiced a grief as bitter as it was genuine. It was planned 
to have a public funeral, but, for some unknown reason, the 
poet was buried privately in the cemetery of Temple 
Church. Soon, however, the Literary Club, in memory of 
its deceased member, caused a monument to be erected 
in Poet's Corner, in Westminster Abbey. Dr. Johnson's 
stately Latin epitaph has been thus translated: 

"OF OLIVER GOLDSMITH,— 

A Poet, Naturalist, and Historian, 

Who left scarcely any style of writing untouched, 

And touched nothing that he did not adorn. 

Of all the passions. 

Whether smiles were to be moved or tears, 

A powerful yet gentle master: 

On genius, sublime, vivid, versatile. 

On style, elevated, clear, elegant, — 

The love of companions, 

The love of friends, 

And the veneration of readers. 

Have by this monument honored the memory. 

He was born in Ireland, 

At a place called Pallas, 

In the parish of Forney, and the county of Longford, 

On the 10th November, 1728, 

Educated at the University of Dublin, 

And died in London, 

4th April, 1774." 



INTRODUCTION 15 



GOLDSMITH THE MAN 



Personal Appearance. — " The general cast of Gold- 
smithes figure and physiognomy was not engaging, and 
the impression made by his writings on the mind of a 
stranger was not confirmed by the external graces of 
their author. In stature he was somewhat under the 
middle size; his body was strongly built, and his 
limbs — as one of his biographers expresses it — were 
more sturdy than elegant. His forehead was low, and 
more prominent than is usual; his complexion pallid; 
his face almost round, and pitted with smallpox. His 
first appearance was, therefore, by no means captivat- 
ing; yet the general lineaments of his countenance bore 
the stamp of intellect, and exhibited traces of deep think- 
ing; and when he grew easy and cheerful in company, 
he relaxed into such a display of benevolent good-humor 
as soon removed every unfavorable impression. His 
pleasantry in company, however, sometimes degenerated 
into buffoonery; and this circumstance, coupled with the 
inelegance of his person and deportment, often prevented 
him from appearing to so much advantage as might 
have been expected from his learning and genius.'^ — 
Irving. 

Generosity and Improvidence. — "Take thought for the 
morrow " is a maxim that Goldsmith never learned to 
heed. No matter how much money he acquired, he al- 
ways spent just enough more to be perpetually in debt, 
and his whole life was clouded by his frantic struggles 
to settle old scores. Not that he was dishonest — even 
his most severe biographer could not accuse him of 
that — but he always spent money freely, and it went 
as often for presents to his friends and gifts to those in 
distress, as for the gratification of his own desires. All 
his life he could not help seeing the importance of thrift. 



16 INTRODUCTION 

but to learn the lesson himself — that he could not do; 
and so it is always " poor '^ Goldsmith that we think 
of — "poor^' in more senses than one. 

Much has been made, particularly in Mr. Forster's 
biography, of the cold and neglectful attitude of the 
world toward Goldsmith; but it seems evident that he 
was his own worst enemy. Anecdotes of his heedless 
generosity and improvidence are many. Just before he 
started out from Leyden for his foot trip through Eu- 
rope, seeing some high-priced tulip roots, he impulsively 
spent all but his last guinea for them, and sent them to 
his Uncle Contrarine. Boswell tells how Johnson, being 
hastily summoned by Goldsmith, who was in danger of 
arrest for debt to his long-suffering landlady, gave the 
poet a guinea, went out to sell The Vicar of Wakefield, 
and, on returning, found Goldsmith making merry over 
a bottle of Madeira which he had bought with Johnson's 
gift. Goldsmith's love for fine dress kept him constantly 
in debt to tailors, and much of his hack writing was 
done to satisfy "that little account." One critic speaks 
of the poet as "toiling, that he might play; earning his 
bread by the sweat of his brains, and then throwing it 
out of the window.'' Money matters blighted much of 
Goldsmith's later life, and he was often found by his 
friends in the deepest melancholy. When he died, he 
was over £2000 in debt. What wonder that Johnson wrote 
to Boswell, " Was ever poet so trusted before ? " 

Other Characteristics. — In many respects Goldsmith's 
character reveals contradictory traits. He was careless 
about his life, yet almost finically careful about every- 
thing that he wrote. The slums of London, and the 
makeshifts of direst poverty, he knew only too well, yet 
the purity of his own nature, and the loftiness of his 
ideals remained unsullied. Beset by sham and conven- 
tionality, he was always sincere in what he said and 
did. Awkward and diffident in speech and person, he 



INTRODUCTION 17 

was the personification of ease and grace with the pen. 
His companions might ridicule him, but they liked him 
and respected him as^a writer. But it is, after all, pos- 
terity that measures worth in life and letters; and we 
love Goldsmith the man despite his faults, because he 
loved humanity. 

LITERAEY CONDITIONS 

Age of Johnson. — To think of the literature and the 
literary conditions of the eighteenth century is to think, 
first of all, of Dr. Samuel Johnson, of whom one critic 
speaks as "sitting on the throne of literature.'^ By 
reason of his learning, his rugged honesty and inde- 
pendence, his aggressiveness in manner and speech, his 
extraordinary ability at disputation, either on paper or 
in conversation, his lambent humor, and especially his 
common-sense — "the quality most characteristic of the 
majority of educated men and women of that day " — the 
impression that Johnson made upon all was one "of 
bigness of body, mind, and spirit." As a poet, essayist, 
critic, biographer and lexicographer, his influence was 
felt in all aspects of the literary activity of his day. The 
phrase, " Johnsonian age,'' bespeaks the type and the trend 
of the writing of this period. It was distinctly an age of 
prose, though poetry of the mechanical kind, brought into 
repute and fashion by Pope and his literary adherents dur- 
ing the preceding century, had not wholly died out. 

The Trend of Literature.— While the "Johnsonian 
age" was not remarkably fruitful in authorship, for the 
dominant intellectual ideas of the day exalted the critical 
over the creative, and manner over matter, activity in 
letters was by no means stilled. Richardson, Fielding, 
Smollett and Sterne were blazing the way for future nov- 
elists; Burke, Chatham, Pitt, Fox and Sheridan were 
making speeches destined to immortalize eloquence; 
3 



18 INTRODUCTION 

Hume, Eobertson and Gibbon were at work upon their 
monumental histories; Goldsmith and Sheridan, through 
their comedies, were awakening interest in the drama; 
and, best sign of all. Young, Chatterton, Gray, Collins and 
Goldsmith, in their "nature poetry," by a closer study 
and a more faithful revelation of man and nature, were 
continuing the reaction, begun unconsciously by Thomson 
in his The Seasons, against the classical artificiality of 
Pope: "poetry of the head was beginning to give way 
to poetry of the heart." 

Letters as a Living. — Notwithstanding a certain public 
interest and pride in the men of letters of this period, the 
life of a professional writer was apt to know hardship 
and even actual want. In the age of Pope, a literary as- 
pirant, desiring a reading public, was forced to secure the 
favor and the support of a member of the nobility. The 
passing of this system of patronage gave to writing, in the 
age of Johnson, a more independent and self-respecting 
tone, but the author who depended solely on his own pen, 
had a harder task than ever before. There were no pub- 
lishers, and a writer had to stake his hopes of recognition 
upon the bookseller, who was often as arbitrary as he was 
uncultured. Of the literary drudgery that such a situa- 
tion fostered. Goldsmith himself, in his Inquiry into the 
State of Polite Learning, paints a picture, dark-hued, but 
faithful to fact. " The author, unpatronized by the 
great, has naturally recourse to the bookseller. There 
cannot, perhaps, be imagined a combination more preju- 
dicial to taste than this. It is the interest of the 
one to allow as little for writing, and for the . other 
to write as much as possible; accordingly, tedious compi- 
lations and periodical magazines are the result of their 
joint endeavors. In these circumstances the author bids 
adieu to fame ; writes for bread ; and for that only imagi- 
nation is seldom called in." 



INTRODUCTION 19 

GOLDSMITH THE POET 

Popularity of The Traveller and The Deserted Village. 

— The reasons for the perennial popularity of The Travel- 
ler and The Deserted Village — especially the latter — 
are no mystery. One ground of immediate appeal is the 
easy and melodious flow of the verse ; often a merely 
casual reading is enough to fix in mind for all time many 
of the couplets. Not only did Goldsmith have a nice 
ear for harmonies of sound, but it was his habit to write 
with laborious care, and then to revise until he secured 
a graceful union of sound and sense; the various editions 
of The Traveller, for example, record many changes in 
the fashioning of verses, most of them decidedly for the 
better. The same care marks GoldsmitVs choice and use 
of words. His natural taste was for the short and vivid 
noun and the homely adjective. The gift of concrete 
visualization was born in him, and to make others see the 
pictures of his remembrance or his fancy Just as he saw 
them, — such a purpose called for the careful weighing of 
epithets and turning of phrases. It is this pictorial viv- 
idness that puts the greater part of Goldsmith's verse in 
the very fore-front of descriptive poetry. There is still 
another reason why The Traveller and The Deserted Vil- 
lage are dear to poetry lovers, — their genuineness of 
ring. The poet's heart pulsed with love and sympathy 
for the wretched and the lowly; and when he sings this, 
his favorite theme, there is no mockery in his humor, 
no hollowness in his pathos. It is only when Goldsmith 
turns away from personal things and spins out measured 
abstractions on subjects like wealth and luxury, that his 
numbers lose their lilt and color, and his thought be- 
comes heavy and dull. Taken all in all, however. The 
Deserted Village and The Traveller, despite their lack of 
sustained strength, and their didactic tone here and there, 
are poems that will continue to appeal to the human 



20 INTRODUCTION 

heart so long as simplicity, sincerity and sympathy make 
for a fellowship of understanding. 

Meter and Form. — The meter of both The Traveller 
and The Deserted Village is the conventional meter of the 
classical and the Johnsonian age, — the heroic couplet, or 
rhymed iambic pentameter. Although Gray and Thom- 
son had already departed somewhat from the stiff example 
of Pope and his school, and although there was a grow- 
ing tendency to give more freedom and flexibility to 
poetic utterance, Dr. Johnson still adhered to the old 
classical manner, and Goldsmith was too good a friend 
and pupil even to dream of setting himself up above the 
master. Moreover, in the dedication to The Traveller, 
Goldsmith goes so far as to say, " What criticisms have 
we not heard of late in favor of blank verse, and Pindaric 
odes, choruses, anapests and iambics, alliterative care and 
happy negligence; every absurdity has now a champion to 
defend it; and as he is generally much in the wrong, so 
he has always much to say; for error is ever talkative.'' 
And yet Goldsmith's meter is, to an extent, distinctive. 
Fully as conventional as that of Pope, it is less metallic 
and monotonous, for variety in rhythm is secured by 
means of the substitution of trochees for the regular 
iambics, occasional stresses on the lighter syllables, pleas- 
ing vowel combinations and graceful consonant effects, — 
devices of versification that betoken the poetic gift rather 
than the rhyming knack. 

THE TEAVELLER 

Composition and Publication.— T/ie Traveller was be- 
gun — so its dedication to Henry Goldsmith tells us — 
when the author was sojourning in Switzerland, some 
time in the year 1756. The poem was not completed and 
given to the public, however, till December 19, 1764; and 



INTRODUCTION 31 

possibly it would never have appeared but for the un- 
stinted praise of Johnson, to whom Goldsmith submitted 
it for critical judgpient. The great doctor championed 
its worth in The Critical Review, then the chief literary 
organ of the day, declaring it '^ the finest poem since 
the day of Pope/^ Although The Traveller won no- 
tice and praise in literary circles, which at first could 
scarcely credit the '^ bookseller^s drudge '^ with its author- 
ship, > it did not immediately become widely known or 
popular. However, during the first year of its publica- 
tion, three editions besides the first were struck off the 
plates of Newberry; and before Goldsmith^s death in 
1774 the ninth had been published. Irving says, " It pro- 
duced a golden harvest to Mr. J^ewberry: bi^t all the re- 
muneration on record, doled out by his niggard hand to 
the author, was twenty guineas ! ^^ 

Opinions of the Poet's Friends. — The following con- 
versation respecting The Traveller is reported by Boswell 
as having taken place at a dinner party given at the home 
of Sir Joshua Eeynolds a few years after Goldsmith^s 
death. The talk drifting around to Goldsmith, somebody 
remarked that The Traveller had brought its author into 
high reputation. 

Bennet Langton: ^^Yes, and no wonder: there is not 
one bad line in the poem, not one of Dryden's careless 
verses.^^ Sir Joshua Eeynolds : '' I was glad to hear 
Charles Fox say it was one of the finest poems in the 
language.^^ Hereupon Dr. Johnson broke in. " No : the 
merit of The Traveller is so well established that Mr. 
Fox's praise cannot augment it, nor his censure diminish 
it. Goldsmith was a man who, whatever he wrote, did it 
better than any other man could do. He deserved a place 
in Westminster Abbey, and every year he lived he would 
have deserved it better/' 

A delicate tribute to the beauty of The Traveller was 



22 INTRODUCTION 

paid by Sir Joshua Eejraolds' sister, who, after listening 
to a reading of the poem, exclaimed : " Well, I never 
more shall think Dr. Goldsmith ugly." 

Purpose and Plan. — The ethical purpose of The Travel- 
ler is to reconcile man with his' station in life, whatever 
it may be. According to the poet, happiness is evenly 
distributed among all nations, though its expression 
differs under differing conditions. To apply this theory 
concretely, the poet takes up a point on an Alpine height, 
and passes in review the leading characteristics of the 
countries through which he has journeyed. Whatever the 
virtue of a particular land, that virtue, it is observed, usu- 
ally runs into excess and brings evil in its wake. After 
a comparison of class with class, and condition with condi- 
tion, Goldsmith finally reaches the conclusion that happi- 
ness is a state of the mind and is to be had by all 
alike. 

Models. — A critical examination of The Traveller re- 
veals Goldsmith's indebtedness, especially as regards ma- 
terial, to other poets of, and before, his day, — notably 
to Joseph Addison, James Thomson, and Dr. .Samuel 
Johnson. It is clear that Goldsmith knew and admired 
Addison's Letter from Italy, published in 1701. There 
are also traces of the influence of Dr. Johnson's Vanity of 
Human Wishes, published in 1749, particularly in the di- 
dactic parts of The Traveller. Goldsmith's chief debt, 
however, was to James Thomson's Liberty, as Dr. Tupper 
has plainly established. ^^ Thomson had pointed out the 
evils arising from various forms of Government; Gold- 
smith recalled his words when he painted the faults of 
each race and clime. Later when he wished to portray 
in The Deserted Village the sad results of trade and 
luxury, he turned again to Thomson, — the fifth canto in- 
deed furnishing the design of many golden verses." Not 
that Goldsmith was a servile copyist; he sorted and sifted 



INTRODUCTION 23 

the material that appealed to his purpose and encased it 
in a marvelous beauty of phrase. 

Critical Estimate. — As a final opinion of The Traveller 
Prof. Dowden^s words 'are worth recalling: " None except 
Goldsmith knew how to unite such various elements into 
a delightful whole, — description, reflecting mirth, sad- 
ness, memory and love. No one like Goldsmith could pass 
so tranquilly from grave to gay, still preserving the deli- 
cate harmony of tone. No one like Goldsmith knew how 
to be at once natural and exquisite, innocent and wise, 
a man and still a child ! '' 



THE DESEETED VILLAGE 

Composition and Publication. — The Public Advertiser 
of May 26, 1770, contains this announcement : " This day, 
at twelve, will be published, price two shillings. The De- 
serted Village, a Poem. By Dr. Goldsmith. Printed for 
W. Griffin, at Garrick's Head in Catherine Street, 
Strand.^^ This date was five years after the appear- 
ance of The Traveller. The Vicar of Wakefield and The 
Good Natured Man, which had come from Goldsmith^s 
pen during this period, had made their author a person of 
literary consequence. Thus the new poem made its bid 
for favor at an auspicious moment. It became popular 
immediately, ^Ye editions being issued within three 
months after its publication; and praise came from all 
quarters: "A fine performance,'^ said Dr. Johnson. 
" This man is a poet,'' asserted Thomas Gray. " What 
true and pretty pastoral images! they beat all — Pope, 
and Philips, and Spenser too, in my opinion," declared 
Edmund Burke. 

Purpose.— The central idea of The Deserted Village is 
a lament over the decay of the small farmers, and an in- 
vective against the spreading power of the landed class — 



24 INTRODUCTION 

^' luxury,'^ the poet says. This was no new idea with 
Goldsmith; in The Traveller, lines 397-412, and in many 
of his contributions to The Citizen of the World, the same 
thought is touched upon. 

Spirit of Progress. — Goldsmith's intensity in cham- 
pioning in verse the cause of the small farmers is made 
clear by an analysis of th& agricultural conditions in 
England during and before the eighteenth century. 
Agriculture during the eighteenth century reflected the 
progressive spirit of the times. A more systematic rota- 
tion of crops was practiced before 1750; many agri- 
cultural implements were invented; the native breeds of 
cattle and sheep were improved by importations; and 
there was some attempt at a scientific analysis of the 
soil. In short, farming began to be carried on with a 
growing intelligence. 

Interest of the Wealthy in Agriculture. — ^^ The peculiar 
excellence of the agriculture of this period," says Lecky, 
the historian, "sprang mainly from the fact that the 
ownership and control of land were chiefly in the hands 
of a wealthy, and not of a needy, class; and a large num- 
ber of great gentleman farmers led the way in all the 
paths of progress.'' The small farmer, unable, by reason 
of his lack of capital, to keep pace with the rich estate- 
owner, was gradually turned into a wage-earning laborer, 
forced often to try his hand at making a living otherwise 
than by tilling the soil. 

Status of the Peasantry. — In certain respects the 
status of the laborers during the first three-quarters of 
the eighteenth century was far from being so deplorable 
as it later became. Wages were steady and employment 
plentiful; wheat bread was an article of daily consump- 
tion; and animal food was not out of reach. On the 
other hand, the densest ignorance prevailed; there was 
scarcely such a thing as skilled labor, and the peasants 



INTRODUCTIOISr 25 

lived in the greatest squalor despite philanthropic and 
legislative action to improve their condition. 

The Corn Laws.— The ''Corn Laws" is the name 
given in England to the long series of statutes dating as 
far back as the reign of Edward III and terminating as 
late as 1846, when, largely through the statesmanship and 
eloquence of Sir Eobert Peel, they were repealed. The 
object of these laws was to regulate the trade in grain. 
''Their tenor varied with the idea uppermost in the 
minds of the legislators.'^ At first they prohibited the 
exportation of grain stuffs. Later, however, this policy 
was abandoned, and the exportation of wheat and corn 
at a fixed price per quarter was permitted, though im- 
portation was restrained by heavy duties. A third 
change came about at the Eevolution; the scheme of im- 
portation was not altered, but exportation was not only 
allowed, but even fostered by the bestowal of subsidies 
upon the estate-owners, the theory being that in this 
way "a new impulse would be given to tillage, and that 
the price of wheat would be made both steadier and 
lower.'' Notwithstanding this legislation, toward the 
end of the eighteenth century England practically ceased 
to export grain of any kind, and by the act of 1773 foreign 
wheat was admitted at the very liberal tax of six-pence 
a quarter. 

The Enclosure Bills. — The "Enclosure Bills" were 
a result of the special efforts made during the latter 
half of the eighteenth century to bring as much land 
as possible under cultivation. It is estimated that as 
late as 1800 there were in England nearly 8,000,000 
acres of what was usually called " common land." Much 
of this immense area was waste or poorly tilled ; the prob- 
lem was to reclaim it and to increase its productivity. Ac- 
cording to English law such land belonged to the estate- 
owner, though the small farmers had certain well-defined 



36 INTRODUCTION 

rights on it, among which were " rights of pasture, rights 
of cutting wood and turf, and also rights of cultivation." 
These lands were tenanted not only by freeholders, but 
by tramps, wandering beggars, gypsies, and similar classes, 
who felt that, by reason of long or occasional occupancy, 
they had just claims to a part of this acreage. Such an 
economic situation naturally resulted in legislation to de- 
termine the rightful ownership of the land. A new era did 
not dawn until 1773 when a general act, the first " En- 
closure Bill," was passed "for the better cultivation, 
improvement and regulation of the common arable fields, 
wastes and commons of pasture in the kingdom." To 
the same end, there were passed from the accession of 
George III in 1760 till 1796 over one thousand enclosure 
acts, whereby nearly 3,000,000 acres of common land were 
added to the holdings of the estate owners. That such 
an agrarian policy was necessary and highly beneficent to 
England as a whole, is the opinion of all economists and 
historians. 

Goldsmith's Economic Theory. — The Deserted Village, 
then, is a partial picture of the changing agricultural 
conditions of the eighteenth century. Criticism has made 
much of Goldsmith's warping of fact and narrowness of 
view in the selection and the treatment of the material 
of this poem — charges that are, in a measure, true. 
The poet's wail over the rapid shrinking away of the 
small farmers was certainly uncalled for, statistics prov- 
ing that England increased in population nearly 1,000,000 
from 1700 till 1750, and over 3,000,000 from the latter 
date till 1800. Again, the steady stream of emigration 
to foreign lands and especially to America, to Goldsmith 
meant only the gradual wiping out of the small farmers. 
And to the many strictures in the poem on wealth and 
luxury, almost all political economists have taken excep- 
tion, charging the poet with being blind to the far-reach- 
ing benefits of trade and commerce. In brief, Gold- 



INTRODUCTION 27 

smith's sympathies and imagination were stirred as much 
by the fancied, as by the real, hardships of the soil 
tillers; the concrete type or instance, not the general 
economic trend, was the thing that fired his heart and 
pen. 

On the other hand, highly colored as some of his pictures 
doubtless are, there is plenty of evidence that both in Eng- 
land and in Ireland the wholesale eviction of the peasantry, 
even if legal and necessary, was the cause of much misery. 
It seems to be true that "whole villages which had de- 
pended on free pasture land and fuel, dwindled and 
perished/' And William Black says in his Life of Gold- 
smith, " It is within the last twenty years that an Eng- 
lish landlord, having faith in his riches, bade a village 
to be removed and cast elsewhere, so that it should no 
longer be visible from his window, and it was forthwith 
removed." After all, the soundness or the lack of sound- 
ness of Goldsmith's economic theories is not such a very 
important matter, for the province of poetry is only inci- 
dentally concerned with the transcription of actual fact. 

The Location of Auburn. — Many literary critics, 
among them Dr. Strean, rector of Kilkenny West during 
the early years of the nineteenth century, hold that Au- 
burn is the Lissoy of the poet's youth. If one must 
be literal and prosaic, it is possible, at least in essential 
respects, to make this identification. The saner view- 
point, however, is that The Deserted Village, though it 
doubtless records many of the poet's impressions and 
memories of the home of his youth, is in a larger way 
the creation of his own fancy, and is located, therefore, 
"nowhere, but everywhere." Certainly the poem por- 
trays English as well as Irish rural life, despite Macau- 
lay's overdrawn contention on this point. " It is made 
up of incongruous parts. The village in its happy days, 
is a true English village. The village in its decay, is an 
Irish village. The happiness and the misery which Gold- 



28 INTRODUCTION 

smith has brought close together, belong to two different 
countries and to two different stages in the progress of 
society. He had assuredly never seen in his native island 
such a rural paradise, such a seat of plenty, content and 
tranquillity as his Auburn. He had assuredly never seen 
in England all the inhabitants of such a paradise turned 
out of their homes in one day, and forced to emigrate in 
a body to America/^ The picture is merely that of any 
village in its weal and in its woe. This very simplicity 
of plan and indefiniteness of location widen and intensify 
its human interest. 

Critical Estimate. — The following sentence from a con- 
cise and liberal estimate of Goldsmith by L. DuPont Syle 
admirably sums up the appeal of The Deserted Village to 
most lovers of poetry. " We do not read The Deserted 
Village for its political economy : we read it for its idyllic 
sweetness; for its portraits of the village preacher, of the 
village schoolmaster, of the country inn; for its pathetic 
description of the poor emigrants ; for the tender and noble 
feeling with which Goldsmith closes the poem in his 
farewell to poetry.^' 



THE TEAVELLER 
DEDICATION TO THE EEV. HENEY GOLDSMITH 

Dear Sir, 

I AM sensible that the friendship between us can ac- 
quire no new force from the ceremonies of a Dedication; 
and perhaps it demands an excuse thus to prefix your name 
to my attempts, which you decline giving with your own. 
But as a part of this poem was formerly written to you 
from Switzerland, the whole can now, with propriety, be 
only inscribed to you. It will also throw a light upon 
many parts of it, when the reader understands that it is 
addressed to a man who, despising fame and fortune, has 
retired early to happiness and obscurity, with an income 
of forty pounds a year. 

I now perceive, my dear brother, the wisdom of your 
humble choice. You have entered upon a sacred office, 
where the harvest is great, and the labourers are but few; 
while you have left the field of ambition, where the la- 
bourers are many, and the harvest not worth carrying 
away. But of all kinds of ambition, what from the refine- 
ment of the times, from different systems of criticism, 
and from the divisions of party, that which pursues poetical 
fame is the wildest. 

Poetry makes a principal amusement among unpolished 
nations; but in a country verging to the extremes of re- 
finement. Painting and Music come in for a share. As 
these offer the feeble mind a less laborious entertainment, 
they at first rival Poetry, and at length supplant her; 
they engross all that favour once shown to her, and though 
but younger sisters, seize upon the elder's birthright. 

Yet, however this art may be neglected by the powerful, 
it is still in greater danger from the mistaken efforts of 
the learned to improve it. What criticisms have we not 
heard of late in favour of blank verse, and Pindaric odes, 

39 



30 THE TRAVELLER 

choruses, anapests and iambics, alliterative care and happy 
negligence! Every absurdity has now a champion to de- 
fend it; and as he is generally much in the wrong, so he 
has always much to say; for error is ever talkative. 

But there is an enemy to this art still more dangerous, 
I mean Party. Party entirely distorts the judgment, and 
destroys the taste. When the mind is once infected with 
this disease, it can only find pleasure in what contributes 
to increase the distemper. Like the tiger, that seldom 
desists from pursuing man after having once preyed upon 
human flesh, the reader, who has once gratified his ap- 
petite with calunmy, makes, ever after, the most agreeable 
feast upon murdered reputation. Such readers generally 
admire some half-witted thing, who wants to be thought a 
bold man, having lost the character of a wise one. Him 
they dignify with the name of poet; his tawdry lampoons 
are called satires, his turbulence is said to be force, and his 
phrenzy fire. 

What reception a poem may fiind, which has neither abuse, 
party, nor blank verse to support it, I cannot tell, nor am 
I solicitous to know. My aims are right. Without espous- 
ing the cause of any party, I have attempted to moderate 
the rage of all. I have endeavoured to show that there may 
be equal happiness in states that are differently governed 
from our own, that every state has a particular principle of 
happiness, and that this principle in each may be carried to 
a mischievous excess. There are few can judge, better than 
yourself, how far these positions are illustrated in this 
poem. 

I am, dear Sir, 
Your most affectionate Brother, 

Oliver Goldsmith. 



THE TEAYELLER 

Eemote, unfriended, melancholy, slow. 

Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po ; 

Or onward, where the rude Carinthian boor 

Against the houseless stranger shuts the door; 

Or where Campania's plain forsaken lies, 5 

A weary waste expanding to the skies; 

Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see. 

My heart untravelled fondly turns to thee; 

Still to my brother turns, with ceaseless pain. 

And drags at each remove a lengthening chain. 10 

Eternal blessings crown my earliest friend. 
And round his dwelling guardian saints attend! 
Blest be that spot where cheerful guests retire 
To pause from toil, and trim their evening fire ; 
Blest that abode where want and. pain repair, 15 

And every stranger finds a ready chair ; 
Blest be those feasts with simple plenty crowned. 
Where all the ruddy family around 
Laugh at the jests or pranks that never fail. 
Or sigh with pity at some mournful tale; 20 

Or press the bashful stranger to his food. 
And learn the luxury of doing good. 

But me, not destined such delights to share. 
My prime of life in wandering spent, and care ; 
Impelled, with steps unceasing, to pursue 25 

Some fleeting good that mocks me with the view; 

2. or — or: either — or. 

8. thee: Henry Goldsmith, the poet's elder brother. 
15, repair: go. 

23i. me : Object of " leads " in line 29. 

31 



32 THE TRAVELLER 

That, like the circle bounding earth and skies. 

Allures from far, yet, as I follow, flies; 

My fortune leads to traverse realms alone. 

And find no spot of all the world my own. 30 

Even now, where Alpine solitudes ascend, 
I sit me down a pensive hour to spend; 
And placed on high above the storm^s career, 
Look downward where an hundred realms appear; 
Lakes, forests, cities, plains extending wide, 35 

The pomp of kings, the shepherd^s humbler pride. 

When thus Creation's charms around combine. 
Amidst the store should thankless pride repine? 
Say, should the philosophic mind disdain 
That good which makes each humbler bosom vain ? 40 
Let school-taught pride dissemble all it can, 
These little things are great to little man; 
And wiser he, whose sympathetic mind 
Exults in all the good of all mankind. 
Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendor 
crowned ; 45 

Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round ; 
Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale; 
Ye bending swains, that dress the flowery vale ; 
For me your tributary stores combine : 
. Creation's heir, the world, the world, is mine ! 60 

As some lone miser visiting his store. 
Bends at his treasure, counts, recounts it o'erj 
Hoards after hoards his rising raptures fill. 
Yet still he sighs, for hoards are wanting still; 
Thus to my breast alternate passions rise, 55 

Pleased with each good that Heaven to man supplies : 

30. und: Infinitive with the preposition (to) omitted. 
32. sit me down: Reflexive use of the personal pronoun; un- 
common to-day. 
34. an: a. 
48. swains: peasants. — dress: tilL 



THE TRAVELLER 33 

Yet oft a sigh prevails, and sorrows fall. 
To see the hoard of human bliss so small; 
And oft I wish amidst the scene to find 
Some spot to real happiness consigned, 60 

.Where my worn soul, each wandering hope at rest, 
May gather bliss to see my fellows blest. 

But where to find that happiest spot below. 
Who can direct, when all pretend to know? 
The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone 65 

Boldly proclaims that happiest spot his own; 
Extols the treasures of his stormy seas. 
And his long nights of revelry and ease : 
The naked negro, panting at the line. 
Boasts of his golden sands and palmy wine, 70 

Basks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave. 
And thanks his gods for all the good they gave. 

Such is the patriot^s boast where'er we roam; 
His first, best country ever is at home. 
And yet, perhaps, if countries we compare, 75 

And estimate the blessings which they share. 
Though patriots flatter, still shall wisdom find 
An equal portion dealt to all mankind; 
As different good, by art or nature given. 
To different nations makes their blessings even. 80 

Nature, a mother kind alike to all. 
Still grants her bliss at labor's earnest call; 
With food as well the peasant is supplied 
On Idra's cliff as Arno's shelvy side; 
And though the rocky-crested summits frown, 85 

These rocks by custom turn to beds of down. 

57. sorrows: signs of sorrow, lamentations. 

70. palmy: fermented from the sap of the palm. 

77. shall: Simple futurity would be expressed by will. 

83. as well: Notice the position. 

84. shelvy side: sloping bank. 
86. custom: use. 



34 THE TRAVELLER 

From art more various are the blessings sent, — 

Wealth, commerce, honor, liberty, content. 

Yet these each other^s power so strong contest. 

That either seems destructive of the rest. 90 

Where wealth and freedom reign, contentment fails. 

And honor sinks where commerce long prevails. 

Hence every state, to one loved blessing prone, 

Conforms and models life to that alone. 

Each to the favorite happiness attends, 95 

And spurns the plan that aims at other ends; 

Till, carried to excess in each domain. 

This favorite good begets peculiar pain. 

But let us try these truths with closer eyes. 
And trace them through the prospect as it lies : 100 
Here for a while my proper cares resigned. 
Here let m© sit in sorrow for mankind ; 
Like yon neglected shrub at random cast, 
That shades the steep, and sighs at every blast. 

Far to the right, where Apennine ascends, 105 

Bright as the summer, Italy extends: 
Its uplands sloping deck the mountain's side. 
Woods over woods in gay theatric pride; 
While oft some temple's mouldering tops between 
With venerable grandeur mark the scene. 110 

Could nature's bounty satisfy the breast. 
The sons of Italy were surely blest. 
Whatever fruits in different climes are found. 
That proudly rise or humbly court i;he ground; 

93. prone: The usual unfavorable sense is not connoted. The 
meaning is merely " inclined." 

98. peculiar pain: pain of a particular kind or peculiar to 
itself. 

99. try: examine, a somewhat rare use of the word. 

101. my proper cares: cares of especial significance to Gold- 
smith. 

109. between: Supply the ellipsis. 

112. were surely blest: Explain the mood and the tense. 



THE TRAVELLER 35 

Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, 115 

Whose bright succession decks the varied year; 
Whatever sweets salute the northern sky 
With vernal lives, that blossom but to die; 
These, here disporting, own the kindred soil, 
Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil ; 120 

While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand 
To winnow fragrance round the smiling land. 
But small the bliss that sense alone bestows. 
And sensual bliss is all the nation knows. 
In florid beauty groves and fields appear; 125 

Man seems the only growth that dwindles here. 
Contrasted faults through all his manners reign: 
Though poor, luxurious; though submissive, vain; 
Though grave, yet trifling; zealous, yet untrue; 
And even in penance planning sins anew. 130 

All evils here contaminate the mind 
That opulence departed leaves behind; 
For wealth was theirs, not far removed the date. 
When commerce proudly flourished through the state; 
At her command the palace learned to rise, 135 

Again the long-fallen column sought the skies. 
The canvas glowed, beyond e'en nature warm. 
The pregnant quarry teemed with human form; 
Till, more unsteady than the southern gale. 
Commerce on other shores displayed her sail; 140 

While nought remained of all that riches gave. 
But towns unmanned, and lords without a slave : 
And late the nation found with fruitless skill 

119. kindred soil: soil of the same sort as that of the native 
land. 

121. gelid: cool. 

125. florid: luxuriant. 

142. unmanned: Used in its etymological sense of depop- 
ulated. 

143. skill: knowledge. 



36 THE TRAVELLER 

Its former strength was but plethoric ill. 

Yet still the loss of wealth is here supplied 145 

By arts, the splendid wrecks of former pride; 
From these the feeble heart and long-fallen mind 
An easy compensation seem to find. 
Here may be seen, in bloodless pomp arrayed. 
The pasteboard triumph and the cavalcade, 150 

Processions formed for piety and love, 
A mistress or a saint in every grove. 
By sports like these are all their cares beguiled; 
The sports of children satisfy the child. 
Each nobler aim, repressed by long control, 155 

Now sinks at last, or feebly mans the soul; 
While low delights, succeeding fast behind. 
In happier meanness occupy the mind: 
As in those domes where Caesars once bore sway. 
Defaced by time and tottering in decay, 160 

There in the ruin, heedless of the dead. 
The shelter-seeking peasant builds his shed; 
And, wondering man could want the larger pile. 
Exults, and owns his cottage with a smile. 

My soul, turn from them, turn we to survey 165 
Where rougher climes a nobler race display, 
Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansion tread, 
And force a churlish soil for scanty bread. 
No product here the barren hills afford 
But man and steel, the soldier and his sword; 170 

No vernal blooms their torpid rocks ^rray, 
But winter lingering chills the lap of May; 
No zephyr fondly sues the mountain's breast. 
But meteors glare, and stormy glooms invest. 

Yet still, even here, content can spread a charm, 175 

144. plethoric: swollen. 

159. domes: palace. 

163. pile: a massive edifice. 

170. man. and steel; armed soldiery. 



THE TRAVELLER 37 

Redress the clime, and all its rage disarm. 
Though poor the peasant's hut, his feasts though small. 
He sees his little lot the lot of all; 
Sees no contiguous palace rear its head 
To shame the meanness of his humble shed; 180 

No costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal 
To make him loathe his vegetable meal; 
But calm, and bred in ignorance and toil. 
Each wish contracting fits him to the soil. 
Cheerful at morn he wakes from short repose, 185 
Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes ; 
With patient angle trolls the finny deep; 
Or drives his venturous plough-share to the steep ; 
Or seeks the den where snow-tracks mark the way. 
And drags the struggling savage into day. 190 

At night returning, every labor sped, 
He sits him down the monarch of a shed; 
Smiles by his cheerful fire, and round surveys 
His children's looks, that brighten at the blaze; 
While his loved partner, boastful of her hoard, 195 
Displays her cleanly platter on the board: 
And haply too some pilgrim, thither led. 
With many a tale repays the nightly bed. 
Thus every good his native wilds impart. 
Imprints the patriot passion on his heart; 200 

And e'en those ills that round his mansion rise 
Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. 
Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms. 
And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; 

176. Redress: compensate for. 

181. deal: To be construed with "sees," understood. 

190. savage: wild beast, an unusual use of the word. 

191. sped: performed. 

197. haply: perhaps. 

198. nightly: of, or pertaining to, the night. 
202. supplies: The object is "that," understood. 



38 THE TRAVELLER 

And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, 205 

Clings close and closer to the mother^s breast, 
So the loud torrent and the whirlwind's roar 
But bind him to his native mountains more. 

Such are the charms to barren states assigned; 
Their wants but few, their wishes all confined. 210 
Yet let them only share the praises due: 
If few their wants, their pleasures are but few; 
For every want that stimulates the breast 
Becomes a source of pleasure when redrest. 
Hence from such lands each pleasing science flies - 215 
That first excites desire, and then supplies; 
Unknown to them, when sensual pleasures cloy. 
To fill the languid pause with finer Joy; 
Unknown those powers that raise the soul to flame, 
Catch every nerve and vibrate through the frame. 220 
Their level life is but a smouldering fire, 
Unquenched by want, unfanned by strong desire; 
Unfit for raptures, or, if raptures cheer 
On some high festival of once a year. 
In wild excess the vulgar breast takes fire, 225 

Till, buried in debauch, the bliss expire. 

But not their joys alone thus coarsely flow: 
Their morals, like their pleasures, are but low; 
For, as refinement stops, from sire to son 
Unaltered, unimproved, the manners run, 230 

And love's and friendship's finely pointed dart 
Fall blunted from each indurated heart. 

214. redrest: supplied. 

215. science: knowledge. 

216. supplies: satisfies. "Desire" is the object of both "ex- 
cites " and " supplies." 

217. Unknown: Note the ellipsis. The meaning is, "They 
know not how." 

221. level: monotonous, unchanging. 
226. expire: Explain the mood. 
228. morals: manners. 



THE TRAVELLER 39 

Some sterner virtues o'er the mountain's breast 
May sit, like falcons cowering on the nest; 
But all the gentter morals, such as play 235 

Through life's more cultured walks, and charm the 

way, 
These, far dispersed, on timorous pinions fly. 
To sport and flutter in a kinder sky. 

To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, 
I turn ; and France displays her bright domain. 240 

Gay, sprightly land of mirth and social ease, 
Pleased with thyself, whom all the world can please. 
How often have I led thy sportive choir. 
With tuneless pipe beside the murmuring Loire! 
Where shading elms along the margin grew, 245 

And freshened from the wave the zephyr flew; 
And haply, though my harsh touch, faltering still, 
But mocked all tune, and marred the dancer's skill; 
Yet would the village praise my wondrous power. 
And dance, forgetful of the noon-tide hour. 250 

Alike all ages. Dames of ancient days 
Have led their children through the mirthful maze. 
And the gay grandsire, skilled in gestic lore. 
Has frisked beneath the burden of threescore. 

So blessed a life these thoughtless realms 

display ; 255 

Thus idly busy rolls their world away. 
Theirs are those arts that mind to mind endear. 
For honor forms the social temper here: 
Honor, that praise which real merit gains. 
Or even imaginary worth obtains, 260 

Here passes current: paid from hand to hand, 
It shifts in splendid traffic round the land: 

234. cowering: bending or crouching. Fear is not implied. 

255. thoughtless: free from the necessity of taking thought 
for their welfare. The word is not used in its modern sense of 
heedless. 



40 THE TRAVELLER 

From courts to camps, to cottages, it strays. 
And all are taught an avarice of praise. 
They please, are pleased; they give to get esteem; 265 
Till, seeming blessed, they grow to what they seem. 

But while this softer art their bliss supplies. 
It gives their follies also room to rise; 
For praise too dearly loved, or warmly sought. 
Enfeebles all internal strength of thought, 270 

And the weak soul within itself unblest. 
Leans for all pleasure on another's breast. 
Hence ostentation here, with tawdry art, 
Pants for the vulgar praise which fools impart; 
Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, 275 

And trims her robes of frieze with copper lace; 
Here beggar pride defrauds her daily cheer. 
To boast one splendid banquet once a year; 
The mind still turns where shifting fashion draws. 
Nor weighs the solid worth of self-applause. 280 

To men of other minds my fancy flies. 
Embosomed in the deep where Holland lies. 
Methinks her patient sons before me stand. 
Where the broad ocean leans against the land; 
And, sedulous to stop the coming tide, 286 

Lift the tall rampire's artificial pride. 
Onward, methinks, and diligently slow. 
The firm connected bulwark seems to grow; 
Spreads its long arms amidst the watery roar. 
Scoops out an empire, and usurps the shore : 290 

While the pent ocean, rising o'er the pile, 
Sees an amphibious world beneath him smile; 
The slow canal, the yellow blossomed vale. 
The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail, 

273. tawdry: gaudy. 

277. cheer: fare. 

283. Methinks: Poetic for, I think. 

286. rampire: Obsolete variant for rampart. 



THE TRAVELLER 41 

The crowded mart, the cultivated plain, — 296 

A new creation rescued from his reign. 

Thus while aroilnd the wave-subjected soil 
Impels the native to repeated toil, 
Industrious habits in each bosom reign, 
And industry begets a love of gain. 300 

Hence all the good from opulence that springs, 
With all those ills superfluous treasure brings, 
Are here displayed. There much-loved wealth 

imparts 
Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts; 
But view them closer, craft and fraud appear, 305 

E^en liberty itself is bartered here. 
At gold's superior charms all freedom flies; 
The needy sell it, and the rich man buys; 
A land of tyrants, and a den of slaves. 
Here wretches seek dishonorable graves, 310 

And calmly bent, to servitude conform. 
Dull as their lakes that slumber in the storm. 
Heavens! how unlike their Belgic sires of old! 
Eough, poor, content, ungovernably bold. 
War in each breast, and freedom on each brow: 315 
How much unlike the sons of Britain now! 

Fired at the sound, my genius spreads her wing, 
And flies where Britain courts the western spring; 
Where lawns extend that scorn Arcadian pride. 
And brighter streams than famed Hydaspes glide. 320 
There all around the gentlest breezes stray; 
There gentle music melts on every spray; 
Creation's mildest charms are there combined. 
Extremes are only in the master's mind ! 
Stern o'er each bosom reason holds her state, 325 



297. wave-subjected: This epithet means "subject to inun- 
dation"; perhaps, too, "lying under the surface of the sea." 
311. bent: That is, to the yoke of servitude. 
317. genius: guiding spirit or poetic muse. 



42 THE TRAVELLER 

With daring aims irregularly great; 

Pride in their port, defiance in their eye, 

I see the lords of human kind pass by; 

Intent on high designs, a thoughtful band, 

By forms unfashioned, fresh from nature's hand, 330 

Fierce in their native hardiness of soul, 

True to imagined right, above control, 

While even the peasant boasts these rights to scan, 

And learns to venerate himself as man. 

Thine, Freedom, thine the blessings pictured 
here ; 335 

Thine are those charms that dazzle and endear; 
Too blessed, indeed, were such without alloy: 
But fostered even by freedom ills annoy: 
That independence Britons prize too high 
Keeps man from man, and breaks the social tie ; 340 
The self-dependent lordlings stand alone. 
All claims that bind and sweeten life unknown. 
Here, by the bonds of nature feebly held. 
Minds combat minds, repelling and repelled; 
Ferments arise, imprisoned factions roar, 345 

Repressed ambition struggles round her shore. 
Till, overwrought, the general system feels 
Its motions stop, or frenzy fire the wheels. 

Nor this the worst. As nature's ties decay. 
As duty, love, and honor fail to sway, 350 

Fictitious bonds, the bonds of wealth and law. 
Still gather strength, and force unwilling awe. 
Hence all obedience bows to these alone. 
And talent sinks, and merit weeps unknown: 354 

327. port: bearing. 

332. imagined right: right that the lords of human kind 
imagine belongs to them. 

345. Ferments: political disturbances. — imprisoned: con- 
fined within the pale of law. 

351. Fictitious: factitious, artificial. 



THE TRAVELLER 43 

Till time may come, when, stripped of all her charms, 
The land of scholars and the nurse of arms. 
Where noble stems transmit the patriot flame. 
Where kings have toiled and poets wrote for fame. 
One sink of level avarice shall lie. 
And scholars, soldiers, kings, unhonored die. 360 

Yet think not, thus when freedom's ills I state, 
I mean to flatter kings, or court the great. 
Ye powers of truth that bid my soul aspire. 
Far from my bosom drive the low desire! 
And thou, fair Freedom, taught alike to feel 365 

The rabble's rage and tyrant's angry steel; 
Thou transitory flower, alike undone 
By proud contempt or favor's fostering sun, 
Still may thy blooms the changeful clime endure ! 
I only would repress them to secure: 370 

For just experience tells, in every soil. 
That those who think must govern those that toil ; 
And all that freedom's highest aims can reach 
Is but to lay proportioned loads on each. 
Hence, should one order disproportioned grow, 375 
Its double weight must ruin all below. 

then how blind to all that truth requires. 
Who think it freedom when a part aspires! 
Calm is my soul, nor apt to rise in arms, 
Except when fast approaching danger warns; 380 

But when contending chiefs blockade the throne, 
Contracting regal power to stretch their own, 
When I behold a factious band agree 
To call it freedom when themselves are free; 
Each wanton judge new penal statues draw, 385 

Laws grind the poor, and rich men rule the law, 

357. noble steins: influential families. 

358. wrote: Obsolete past participle of write. 

370. to secure : Infinitive of purpose. " Them " is to be under- 
stood as the object. 



44 THE TRAVELLER 

The wealth of climes where savage nations roam 

Pillaged from slaves to purchase slaves at home; 

Fear, pity, justice, indignation start, 

Tear off reserve, and bare my swelling heart; 390 

Till half a patriot, half a coward grown, 

I fly from petty tyrants to the throne. 

Yes, brother, curse with me that baleful hour 
When first ambition struck at regal power; 
And thus polluting honor in its source, 395 

Gave wealth to sway the mind with double force. 
Have we not seen, round Britain^s peopled shore. 
Her useful sons exchanged for useless ore. 
Seen all her triumphs but destruction haste. 
Like flaring tapers brightening as they waste? 400 

Seen opulence, her grandeur to maintain, 
Lead stern depopulation in her train, 

-And over fields where scattered hamlets rose 
In barren solitary pomp repose? 

Have we not seen at pleasure's lordly call 405 

The smiling long-frequented village fall? 
Beheld the duteous son, the sire decayed. 
The modest matron, and the blushing maid. 
Forced from their homes, a melancholy train. 
To traverse climes beyond the western main ; 410 

Where wild Oswego spreads her swamps around. 
And Niagara stuns with thundering sound? 

Even now, perhaps, as there some pilgrim strays 
Through tangled forests and through dangerous ways, 
Where beasts with man divided empire claim, 415 

.And the brown Indian marks with murderous aim; 
There, while above the giddy tempest flies, 

399. destruction: The direct object of "haste." 
40L Seen: An ellipsis. Supply, "Have we not?" 

406. smiling: happy and prosperous; perhaps the idea of 
natural beauty of location is also implied. 

407. duteous: dutiful. 



THE TRAVELLER 45 

And all around distressful yells arise^ 
The pensive exile, bending with his woe, 
To stop too fearful, and too faint to go, 420 

Casts a long look where England's glories shine. 
And bids his bosom sympathize with mine. 
Vain, very vain, my weary search to find 
That bliss which only centres in the mind. 
Why have I strayed from pleasure and repose, 425 
To seek a good each government bestows? 
In every government, though terrors reign. 
Though tyrant kings or tyrant laws restrain. 
How small, of all that human hearts endure, 
That part which laws or kings can cause or cure ! 430 
Still to ourselves in every place consigned, 
Our own felicity we make or find: 
With secret course, which no loud storms annoy, 
Glides the smooth current of domestic joy. 
The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel, 435 

Luke's iron crown, and Damiens' bed of steel. 
To men remote from power but rarely known. 
Leave reason, faith, and conscience all our own. 

437. "but rarely known: An adjective phrase to be taken with 
" The lifted ax/' " The agonizing wheel," etc., the subjects of 
" leave." 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 
DEDICATION TO SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 

Dear Sir, 

I CAN have no expectations, in an address of this kind, 
either to add to your reputation, or to establish my own. 
You can gain nothing from my admiration, as I am igno- 
rant of that art in which you are said to excel; and I may 
lose much by the severity of your judgment, as few have a 
juster taste in poetry than you. Setting interest, therefore, 
aside, to which I never paid much attention, I must be in- 
dulged at present in following my affections. The only 
dedication I ever made was to my brother, because I loved 
him better than most other men. He is since dead. Per- 
mit me to inscribe this Poem to you. 

How far you may be pleased with the versification and 
mere mechanical parts of this attempt, I do not pretend to 
enquire; but I know you will object (and indeed several of 
our best and wisest friends concur in the opinion), that the 
depopulation it deplores is no where to be seen, and the dis- 
orders it laments are only to be found in the poet's own 
imagination. To this I can scarcely make any other an- 
swer, than that I sincerely believe what I have written; 
that I have taken all possible pains, in my country excur- 
sions, for these four or five years past, to be certain of 
what I allege; and that all my views and enquiries have 
led me to believe those miseries real, which I here attempt 
to display. But this is not the place to enter into an 
enquiry, whether the country be depopulating, or not; the 
discussion would take up much room, and I should prove 
myself, at best, an indifferent politician, to tire the reader 
with a long preface, when I want his unfatigued attention 
to a long poem. 

In regretting the depopulation of the country, I inveigh 
against the increase of our luxuries; and here also I expect 

46 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 47 

the shout of modern politicians against me. For twenty or 
thirty years past, it has been the fashion to consider luxury 
as one of the greatest ^national advantages; and all the wis- 
dom of antiquity in that particular, as erroneous. Still, 
however, I must remain a professed ancient on that head, 
and continue to think those luxuries prejudicial to states, 
by which so many vices are introduced, and so many king- 
doms have been undone. Indeed, so much has been poured 
out of late on the other side of the question, that, merely 
for the sake of novelty and variety, one would sometimes 
wish to be in the right. 

I am. Dear Sir, 
Your sincere friend, and ardent admirer, 

Oliver Goldsmith. 



THE DESEETED VILLAGE 

Sweet Auburn ! loveliest village of the plain, 
Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain, 
Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid, 
And parting summer's lingering blooms delayed: 
Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, 5 

Seats of my youth, when every sport could please. 
How often have I loitered o'er thy green. 
Where humble happiness endeared each scene! 
How often have I paused on every charm, 
The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, 10 

The never-failing brook, the busy mill. 
The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill, 
The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade. 
For talking age and whispering lovers made ! 
How often have I blest the coming day, 15 

When toil remitting lent its turn to play. 
And all the village train, from labour free. 
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree. 
While many a pastime circled in the shade, 

2. swain: See note on line 48 of The Traveller. 

4. parting: departing. 

5. bowers: Poetic for unpretentious dwellings; cottages. A 
favorite word with Goldsmith. 

6. Seats: abodes. 

10. cot: cottage, the original meaning of the word. 

12. decent: Used in its root sense of becoming or attractive 
(Latin decens). "Decent" is still used in this sense in many 
parts of Scotland. 

15. coming day: holiday. 

16. remitting: ceasing now and then. 

17. train: group, class. 

18. Led up: arranged. 

48 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 49 

The young contending as the old surveyed; 20 

And many a gambol frolicked o'er the ground, 
And sleights of art^ and feats of strength went round. 
And still, as each repeated pleasure tired, 
Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspired; 
The dancing pair that simply sought renown 25 

By holding out to tire each other down ; 
The swain mistrustless of his smutted face. 
While secret laughter tittered round the place ; 
The bashful virgin's side-long looks of love. 
The matron's glance that would those looks reprove. 30 
These were thy charms, sweet village ! sports like these. 
With sweet succession, taught even toil to please; 
These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed: 
These were thy charms — but all these charms are fled. 
^^.^ Sweet smiling village, loveliest of the lawn, 35 

Thy sports are fled, and all thy charms withdrawn ; 
Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen. 
And desolation saddens all thy green: 
One only master grasps the whole domain. 
And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain. 40 

ho more thy glassy brook reflects the day, 
But, choked with sedges, works its weedy way; 
Along thy glades, a solitary guest, 
The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest; 

2L gambol frolicked: running about in a frolicsome manner. 

22. sleights of art: clever tricks. 

23. still: habitually, always. 
25. simply: artlessly. 

27. mistrustless of: not suspecting. 

29. virgin: girl. 

35. lawn: an expanse of meadow. 

39. only master: sole master; " only " is used in the adjectival 
sense. 

40. stints thy smiling plain: deprives of beauty and fruit- 
fulness. 

43. glades: The usual meaning of this word is an open space 



50 THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies, 45 

And tires their echoes with unvaried cries; 
Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all. 
And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall; 
And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, 
Pgr, far away thy children leave the land. 50 

f' 111 fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, 
I Where wealth accumulates, and men decay: 
I Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade; 
\ A breath can make them, as a breath has made : 
I But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, 55 

! When once destroyed, can never be supplied. 
I A time there was, ere England's griefs began, 
(^hen every rood of ground maintained its man; 
For him light labour spread her wholesome store. 
Just gave what life required, but gave no more : 60 

His best companions, innocence and health; 
And his best riches, ignorance of wealth. 

But times are altered; trade's unfeeling train 
Usurp the land, and dispossess the swain; 
Along the lawn, where scattered hamlets rose, 65 

Unwieldy wealth and cumbrous pomp repose. 
And every want to opulence allied. 
And every pang that folly pays to pride. 
These gentle hours that plenty bade to bloom. 
Those calm desires that asked but little room, 70 

Those healthful sports that graced the graceful scene, 

in a wood or forest, either natural, or artificially made. Here 
glade seems to be almost equivalent to everglade, a low-lying, 
marshy expanse of country. 

45. walks: range, region. — lapwing: A bird of the plover 
type, sometimes called the pewit from its cry. 

62. decay: grow fewer in number. 

58. rood: The fourth part of a statute acre, equal to about 
40 square rods. The meaning here, however, is not literal. 

60. Just: To be contented with "what life required." 

67-68. The verb "repose" is understood. 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE * 51 

Lived in each look, and brightened all the green; 
These, far departing, seek a kinder shore. 
And rural mirth dnd manners are no more. 

Sweet Auburn! parent of the blissful hour, 75 

Thy glades forlorn confess the tyrant's power. 
Here, as I take my solitary rounds 
Amidst thy tangling walks and ruined grounds. 
And, many a year elapsed, return to view 
Where once the cottage stood, the hawthorn grew, 80 
Eemembrance wakes with all her busy train, 
Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. 

In all my wanderings round this world of care. 
In all my griefs — and God has given my share — 
I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown, 85 

Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down; 
To husband out life's taper at the close. 
And keep the flame from wasting, by repose : 
I still had hopes, for pride attends us still. 
Amidst the swains to show my book-learned skill, 90 
Around my fire an evening group to draw. 
And tell of all I felt, and all I saw; 
And, as an hare whom hounds and horns pursue, 
Pants to the place from whence at first she flew, 
I still had hopes, my long vexations past, 95 

Here to return — and die at home at last. 

blest retirement, friend to life's decline, 
Eetreats from care, that never must be mine, 

74. manners: customs. 

76. confess: display, betoken. 

81. busy train: crowding recollections of the past. 

85. latest: last. 

88. by repose: Modifies "keep." 

93. whom: which. 

94. from whence: whence. 

98. Retreats: In the same case as "retirement" in line 96. — 
never must be. never can be; destined never to be. 



52 THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

How happy is he who crowns in shades like these, 

A youth of labour with an age of ease; 100 

Who quits a world where strong temptations try, 

And, since ^tis hard to combat, learns to fly ! 

For him no wretches, born to work and weep. 

Explore the mine, or tempt the dangerous deep; 

No surly porter stands in guilty state 105 

To spurn imploring famine from the gate; 

But on he moves to meet his latter end, 

Angels around befriending virtue's friend; 

Bends to the grave with unperceived decay, 

While resignation gently slopes the way; 110 

And, all his prospects brightening to the last. 

His heaven commences ere the world be past ! 

Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close. 
Up yonder hill the village murmur rose. 
There, as I passed with careless steps and slow, 115 
The mingling notes came softened from below; 
The swain responsive as the milk-maid sung. 
The sober herd that lowed to meet their young. 
The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool. 
The playful children just let loose from school, 120 
The watch-dog's voice that bayed the whispering wind. 
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind ; — 
These all in sweet confusion sought the shade. 
And filled each pause the nightingale had made. 
But now the sounds of population fail, 125 

No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale. 
No busy steps the grass-grown footway tread, 

100. age: old age. 

107. latter end: death; a Biblical phrase. 

111. prospects: anticipations. 

115. careless: free from care. 

122. vacant mind: the mind that has cast off care. 

126. fluctuate in the gale : " Float on the breeze." 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 53 

But all the bloomy flush of life is fled. 
. All but yon widowed, solitary thing, 

That feebly bends beside the plashy spring; 130 

,She, wretched matron, forced in age, for bread. 

To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread. 

To pick her wintry faggot from the thorn. 

To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn; 

She only left of all the harmless train, 135 

The sad historian of the pensive plain. 

Near yonder copse, where once the garden smiled, 
And still where many a garden flower grows wild; 
There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, 
The village, preacher's modest mansion rose. 140 

A man he was to all the country dear. 
And passing rich with forty pounds a year ; 
Eemote from towns he ran his godly race, 
Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change his place ; 
Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power, 145 

By doctrines fashioned to the varying hour; 
Far other aims his heart had learned to prize, 
More skilled to raise the wretched than to rise. 
His house was known to all the vagrant train ; 
He chid their wanderings but relieved their pain: 150 
The long remembered beggar was his guest. 
Whose beard descending swept his aged breast; 
The ruined spendthrift, now no longer proud, 
Claimed kindred there, and had his claims allowed ; 

128. bloomy: blooming. 
130. plashy: full of puddles. 

132. mantling cresses: cresses so thickly intergrown that the 
surface of the water appeared like a mantle. 

136. pensive: reflective and sad. 

137. copse: a thicket of shrubbery or small trees. 

139. disclose: mark, indicate. 

140. mansion: dwelling, abode usually one of some preten- 
sions. 

142. passing rich: surpassingly rich. 



54 THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

The broken soldier, kindly bade to stay, 155 

Sat by his fire, and talked the night away, 
Wept o^er his wounds, or, tales of sorrow done, 
Shouldered his crutch, and showed how fields were won. 
Pleased with his guests, the good man learned to glow, 
And quite forgot their vices in their woe; 160 

Careless their merits or their faults to scan. 
His pity gave ere charity began. 

Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride. 
And even his failings leaned to virtue^s side: 
But in his duty prompt at every call, 165 

He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; 
And, as a bird each fond endearment tries 
To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies. 
He tried each art, reproved each dull delay. 
Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way. 170 

Beside the bed where parting life was laid. 
And sorrow, guilt, and pain by turns dismayed, 
The reverend champion stood. At his control 
Despair and anguish fled the struggling soul; 
Comfort came down the trembling wretch to raise, 175 
And his last faltering accents whispered praise. 

At church, with meek and unaffected grace. 
His looks adorned the venerable place; 
Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway. 
And fools, who came to scoft', remained to pray; 180 
The service past, around the pious man. 
With steady zeal, each honest rustic ran ; 
Even children followed with endearing wile, 

155. bade: Obsolete past participle of bid; the usual form 
to-day is " bidden.'* 

159. to glow: to kindle with enthusiasm. 

161. Careless: To be taken with "good man," the understood 
subject of "gave" in line 162. 

171. parting: See note on line 4. 

172. dismayed: The object is "dying person," understood. 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 55 

And plucked his gown, to share the good man^s smile. 
His ready smile a parentis warmth exprest, 185 

Their welfare pleased him, and their cares distrest; 
To them his heart, his love, his griefs were given. 
But all his serious thoughts had rest in heaven. 
As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form. 
Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm, 190 
Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head. 

Beside yon straggling fence that skirts the way, 
With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, 
There, in his noisy mansion, skilled to rule, 195 

The village master taught his little school. 
A man severe he was, and stern to view; 
I knew him well, and every truant knew: 
Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace 
The day's disasters in his morning face; 200 

Full well they laughed with counterfeited glee 
At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; 
Eull well the busy whisper circling round 
Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned. 
Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, 205 

The love he bore to learning was in fault; 
The village all declared how much he knew. 
^Twas certain he could write, and cipher too; 
Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage, 
And even the story ran that he could gauge. 210 

In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill. 
For, even though vanquished, he could argue still; 
While words of learned length and thundering sound 
Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; 
And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew, 215 



189. awful: The strictly correct use of this much abused ad- 
jective. 

210. gauge: To measure the capacity of casks. Recall 
Burns's duties as an exciseman. 



56 THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

That one small head could carry all he knew. 

But past is all his fame. The very spot 
Where many a time he triumphed is forgot. 
Near yonder thorn, that lifts its head on high. 
Where once the sign-post caught the passing eye, 220 
Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspired, 
Where grey-beard mirth and smiling toil retired, 
Where village statesmen talked with looks profound, 
And news much older than their ale went round. 
Imagination fondly stoops to trace 225 

The parlour splendours of that festive place : 
The whitewashed wall, the nicely sanded floor. 
The varnished clock that clicked behind the door; 
The chest contrived a double debt to pay, 
A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day ; 230 

The pictures placed for ornament and use. 
The twelve good rules, the royal game of goose; 
The hearth, except when winter chilled the day. 
With aspen boughs, and flowers, and fennel gay; 
While broken teacups, wisely kept for show, 235 

Eanged o'er the chimney, glistened in a row. 

Vain, transitory splendours! could not all 
Reprieve the tottering mansion from its fall? 
Obscure it sinks, nor shall it more impart 
An hour's importance to the poor man's heart. 240 

Thither no more the peasant shall repair 
To sweet oblivion of his daily care ; 
No more the farmer's news, the barber's tale, 

218. forgot: Forgotten is the preferable form of the past 
participle, at least in prose. 

219. thorn: hawthorn. 

229. contrived: Past participle. 

236. Kanged: Participle, "Glistened" is the main verb. — 
chimney: fireplace, a common meaning of the word in Gold- 
smith's time. 

239. Obscure it sinks: its decay attracts little heed. 

241. repair: See note on line 15 of The Traveller. 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 57 

No more the woodman's ballad shall prevail ; 

No more the smith his dusky brow shall clear, 245 

Eelax his ponderous strength, and lean to hear ; 

The host himself no longer shall be found 

Careful to see the mantling bliss go round; 

Nor the coy maid, half willing to be prest. 

Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest. 250 

Yes! let the rich deride, the proud disdain. 
These simple blessings of the lowly train; 
To me more dear, congenial to my heart. 
One native charm, than all the gloss of art; 
Spontaneous joys, where nature has its play, 255 

The soul adopts, and owns their first-born sway; 
Lightly they frolic o'er the vacant mind, 
Unenvied, unmolested, unconfined. 
But the long pomp, the midnight masquerade. 
With all the freaks of wanton wealth arrayed, — 260 
In these, ere triflers half their wish obtain. 
The toiling pleasure sickens into pain; 
And, even while fashion's brightest arts decoy. 
The heart distrusting asks, if this be joy. 

Ye friends to truth, ye statesmen, who survey 265 
The rich man's joys increase, the poor's decay, 
'Tis yours to judge, how wide the limits stand 
Between a splendid and an happy land. 
Proud swells the tide with loads of freighted ore, 
And shouting folly hails them from her shore; 270 

248. mantling bliss: foaming ale. 

253. congenial : " More " is to be understood before congenial. 

254. charm: Subject of "is" to be supplied. — native: nat- 
ural. 

256. owns: grants. 

257. vacant: Cf. note on line 122. 
259. pomp: procession. 

267. 'Tis yours: it is your duty. 

268. splendid: The correct use of this over-used adjective. 

269. freighted: "loaded for shipment." 



58 THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

Hoards, even beyond the miser's wish abound, 
And rich men flock from all the world around. 
Yet count our gains. This wealth is but a name 
That leaves our useful products still the same. 
JSTot so the loss. The man of wealth and pride 275 

Takes up a space that many poor supplied; 
Space for his lake, his park's extended bounds. 
Space for his horses, equipage, and hounds; 
The robe that wraps his limbs in silken sloth. 
Has robbed the neighbouring fields of half their 
growth ; 280 

His seat, where solitary sports are seen, 
Indignant spurns the cottage from the green; 
Around the world each needful product flies. 
For all the luxuries the world supplies; 
While thus the land, adorned for pleasure, all 285 

In barren splendour feebly waits the fall. 

As some fair female unadorned and plain. 
Secure to please while youth confirms her reign. 
Slights every borrowed charm that dress supplies. 
Nor shares with art the triumph of her eyes; 290 

But when those charms are past, for charms are frail, 
When time advances, and when lovers fail, 
,She then shines forth, solicitous to bless. 
In all the glaring impotence of dress. 
Thus fares the land by luxury betrayed, 295 

In nature's simplest charms at first arrayed; 
But verging to decline, its splendours rise. 
Its vistas strike, its palaces surprise; 
While, scourged by famine from the smiling land, 

281. seat: See note on line 6. 
285. all: wholly. 
. 288. Secure to please: confident of pleasing. 
293. solicitoiis to bless: eager to attract. 
298. strike: impress strongly. 



THE PESERTED VILLAGE 59 

The mournful peasant leads his humble band, 300 

And while he sinks, without one arm to save. 
The country blooms, — a garden and a grave. 

Where, then, ah! where shall poverty reside. 
To ^scape the pressure of contiguous pride? 
If to some common's fenceless limits strayed 305 

His drives his flock to pick the scanty blade. 
Those fenceless fields the sons of wealth divide. 
And even the bare-worn common is denied. 

If to the city sped — what waits him there? 
To see profusion that he must not share; 310 

To see ten thousand baneful arts combined 
To pamper luxury, and thin mankind; 
To see those joys the sons of pleasure know 
Extorted from his fellow-creature's woe. 
Here while the courtier glitters in brocade, 315 

There the pale artist plies the sickly trade ; 
Here while the proud their long-drawn pomps display. 
There the black gibbet glooms besides the way. 
The dome where pleasure holds her midnight reign, 
Here, richly decked, amidst the gorgeous train : 320 
Tumultuous grandeur crowds the blazing square. 
The rattling chariots clash, the torches glare. 
Sure scenes like these no troubles e'er annoy ! 
Sure these denote one universal joy! 

300. band: family. 

304. contiguous pride: See note on line 14. 
308. bare-worn common: See Introduction. 
310. must: See note on line 97. 

316. artist: artizan or mechanic, a use of the word common 
in Goldsmith's day, but obsolete now. — sickly trade : unremunera- 
tive occupation. Cf. line 389. 

317. pomps: Consult note on line 259. 

319. dome: The Latin domus, poetical here for palace. See 
The Traveller, line 159. 
, 322. chariots: Generic for carriages. 

323. Sure: surely. 



60 THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

Are these thy serious thoughts? — Ah! turn thine 
eyes 325 

Where the poor houseless shivering female lies. 
She once, perhaps, in village plenty blest. 
Has wept at tales of innocence distrest; 
Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, 
Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn : 330 

'Now lost to all; her friends, her virtue fled, 
Near her betrayer's door she lays her head. 
And, pinched with cold, and shrinking from the shower. 
With heavy heart deplores that luckless hour. 
When idly first, ambitious of the town, 335 

She left her wheel, and robes of country brown. 

Do thine, sweet Auburn, — thine, the loveliest train, — 
Do thy fair tribes participate her pain? 
Even now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led. 
At proud men's doors they ask a little bread! 340 

Ah, no. To distant climes, a dreary scene. 
Where half the convex world intrudes between. 
Through torrid tracts with fainting steps they go, 
Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe. 
Far different there from all that charmed before, 345 
The various terrors of that horrid shore; 
Those blazing suns that dart a downward ray. 
And fiercely shed intolerable day; 
Those matted woods where birds forget to sing. 
But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling; 350 

Those poisonous fields with rank luxuriance crowned. 
Where the dark scorpion gathers death around; 
Where at each step the stranger fears to wake 
The rattling terrors of the vengeful snake; 

342. convex: curved; often used by the Latin poets to qualify 

world ( mund/us ) . 

346. horrid: horror-arousing, the correct use of the word. 

352. death: venom. 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 61 

Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey, 355 
And savage men more murderous still than they; 
While oft in whirls the mad tornado flies, 
Mingling the ravaged landscape with the skies. 
Far different these from every former scene, 
The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green, 360 

The breezy covert of the warbling grove. 
That only sheltered thefts of harmless love. 

Good Heaven! what sorrows gloomed that parting 
day. 
That called them from their native walks away; 
When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, 365 

Hung round their bowers, and fondly looked their last. 
And took a long farewell, and wished in vain 
For seats like these beyond the western main. 
And shuddering still to face the distant deep, 
Eeturned and wept, and still returned to weep. 370 

The good old sire the first prepared to go 
To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe; 
But for himself, in conscious virtue brave 
He only wished for worlds beyond the grave. 
His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears, 375 

The fond companion of his helpless years. 
Silent went next, neglectful of her charms. 
And left a lover's for a father's arms. 
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes. 
And blest the cot where every pleasure rose, 380 

And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear, 

355. hapless: unlucky. 
362. only: To be construed with "thefts." 
364. them: A pronoun anticipating its antecedent, "exiles" 
in line 365. 

379. plaints: complaints. 

380. cot: See note on line 10. 

381. thoughtless: unthinking. See note on line 255 of The 
Traveller. 



62 THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

And clasped them close in sorrow doubly dear. 
Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief 
In all the silent manliness of grief. 

luxury ! thou curst by Heaven's decree, 385 

How ill exchanged are things like these for thee ! 
How do thy potions, with insidious joy. 
Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy! 
Kingdoms by thee to sickly greatness grown. 
Boast of a florid vigour not their own. 390 

At every draught more large and large they grow, 
A bloated mass of rank unwieldy woe; 
Till, sapped their strength, and every part unsound, 
Down, down they sink, and spread a ruin round. 

Even now the devastation is begun 395 

And half the business of destruction done; 
Even now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, 
I see the rural virtues leave the land. 
Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail. 
That idly waiting flaps with every gale, 400 

Downward they move, a melancholy band, 
Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. 
Contented toil, and hospitable care, 
. And kind connubial tenderness are there; 
And piety with wishes placed above, 405 

And steady loyalty, and faithful love. 
And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, 
Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; 
Unfit in these degenerate times of shame 
To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame ; 410 

Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried. 
My shame in crowds, my solitary pride ; 



389. sickly: Cf. line 316 of The Deserted Village, and line 
144 of The Traveller. 

397. methinks: See note on line 283 of The Traveller. 

399. anchoring: lying at anchor. 

412. my solitary pride: The poet's pride when by himself. 



THE DESERTED VILLAGE 63 

Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, 

That found'st me poor at first, and keep^st me so; 

Thou guide by whieh the nobler arts excel, 415 

Thou nurse of every virtue, fare thee well! 

Farewell, and ! wherever thy voice be tried. 

On Torno^s cliffs, or Pambamarca^s side. 

Whether where equinoctial fervours glow, 

Or winter wraps the polar world in snow, 420 

Still let thy voice, prevailing over time, 

Eedress the rigours of the inclement clime; 

Aid slighted truth with thy persuasive strain; 

Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain; 

Teach him that states, of native strength possest, 425 

Tho' very poor, may still be very blest; 

That trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay. 

As ocean sweeps the laboured mole away; 

While self-dependent power can time defy. 

As rocks resist the billows and the sky. 430 

419. fervours: heat. 

422. Redress: See note on line 176 of The Traveller. 

425. of: To be taken with "possest." 

428. mole: breakwater or pier. 



NOTES 
THE TRAVELLER 

Cf .= compare. L= line. 11.= lines. 

1. The adjectives composing this line foretell and reflect 
the spirit of the entire poem. The note struck is at once per- 
sonal and pathetic; the poet is keenly aware that he is an 
aimless wanderer in a strange land, with loved ones and fa- 
miliar scenes far away. William Black, in his Goldsmith, Eng- 
lish Men of Letters Series, 71, speaks of this verse as per- 
vaded by a '* pathetic thrill of distance and regret and longing." 
— slow : Boswell, the garrulous biographer of Dr. Samuel 
Johnson, records concerning this word an interesting conver- 
sation in which Dr. Johnson, Chamier and Goldsmith are re- 
ported to have taken part. Chamier asked Goldsmith if by 
" slow " he meant " tardiness of locomotion.'* The latter's un- 
thinking reply was that he did. At this point Dr. Johnson 
broke in, " No, sir ; you do not mean * tardiness of locomotion ' ; 
you mean that sluggishness of mind that comes upon a man in 
solitude." Chamier ever afterward believed Dr. Johnson to have 
been the author of the first line of The Traveller. 

2. Or: Poetic for either. Cf. 

" Tell me, where is fancy bred. 
Or in the heart, or in the head ? " 
Shak., The Merchant of Venice, III., 2, 64. — SchelJt: A 
river rising in France, and flowing north into Belgium and then 
northeast to the city of Antwerp, near which it merges with the 
southernmost arm of the Rhine delta. — wandering Po: The 
largest river of Italy; it rises in the Cottian Alps, flows east 
through Piedmont and Lombardy, and after a course of about 
400 miles in length, empties into the Adriatic 8ea. Its course 
is irregular, winding, and throughout the last 200 miles sluggish; 
hence the aptness of the epithet, "wandering." 

3. the rude Carinthian boor: Carinthia is a crownland and 
duchy of Hungary in western Austria; its chief city and capital 
is Klagenfurth, now containing about 25,000 inhabitants. This 
province has long been noted for its lumber, mineral and horses. 

64 



NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 65 

Goldsmith is supposed to have visited Carinthia in the course 
of his European wanderings, probably in the year 1755. 

4. According to Prior, Life of Goldsmith, 109, the poet once 
during his sojourn in Carinthia was turned out of a certain 
house in which he had sought shelter and compelled " to pass 
part or the whole of the night in seeking another." 

5. Campania's plain: Doubtless the Campagna of Rome. The 
Campagna was the name bestowed in the early days of Roman 
history upon the undulating plain surrounding the city. Under 
the emperors, the Campagna was covered with the villas of 
wealthy Romans; majestic ruins and unusually picturesque 
scenic effects make the Campagna to-day a favorite subject for 
painters. 

7-10. " I have met with no disappointment with respect to my 
East India voyage, nor are my resolutions altered ; though at the 
same time, I must confess it gives me some pain to think I am 
almost beginning the world at the age of thirty-one. Though 
I never had a day's sickness since I saw you, yet I am not that 
strong, active man you once knew me. ... I can neither 
laugh nor drink; have contracted an hesitating, disagreeable 
manner of speaking; and a visage that looks ill-nature itself; 
in short, I have brought myself into a settled melancholy, and 
an utter disgust of all that life brings with it." 

Letter from Oliver to Henry Goldsmith at Lowfield, in West- 
meath, Ireland, 1759. 

9, thee: Henry Goldsmith, the poet's elder brother, who ap- 
pears to have possessed a lovable personality. The ties of affec- 
tion between the brothers were very strong; the melancholy effect 
of Henry's death in 1768 is traceable in the later life and 
writings of the poet. One critic has spoken of Henry Goldsmith 
as "the only anchor that the poet in his stormy life could feel 
that he had to windward." Consult note on 1. 140 of The 
Deserted Village. 

15. want and pain: See note on L 2 of The Deserted Vil- 
lage, — repair: betake themselves. Cf. 
" Some to church repair. 
Not for the doctrine, but the music there." 

— Pope, Essay on Criticism, II., 142. 

16-22. The Irish have long been famed for their hospitality. 
Cf. The Deserted Village, 142-162, and The Vicar of Wakefield, 
I. and VI. For a keen analysis of the Irish temperament con- 
sult parts of the Introduction to a Treasury of Irish Poetry, 
edited by Stopford A. Brooke and T. W. RoUeston. 
5 



66 NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 

21, 22. food, good: Faulty rhyme, to be pardoned, perhaps, 
on the ground of poetic license. See note on 11. 79, 80. 

24. in wandering spent and care: The prose, or natural, or- 
der would be, "spent in wandering and care." Poetry, for the 
sake of rhythm, often takes liberties with the order and the ar- 
rangement of words. For the construction of the verse see note 
on 1. 79 of The Deserted Village. 

" When will my wanderings be at an end ? When will my 
restless disposition give me leave to enjoy the present hour? 
When at Lyons, I thought all happiness lay beyond the Alps; 
when in Italy, I found myself still in want of something, and 
expected to leave solicitude behind me by going into Romelia; 
and now you find me turning back, still expecting ease every- 
where but where I am. It is now seven years since I saw the 
face of a creature who eared a farthing whether I was dead 
or alive." Letter from A Traveller, The Bee, I. Cf. Thackeray, 
Biographical edition, VIL, 607. When Goldsmith set out for 
Edinburgh at the age of twenty-three, he was destined never 
to return to Ireland except on the wing of fancy. 

31-36: An Alpine mountain crag is the point of vantage of 
the poet; below France, Italy and Switzerland meet and stretch 
away into the distance. The reflections induced by this sweeping 
prospect and by the poet's memories of his travels find imagina- 
tive expression in The Traveller. See Introduction. 

32. sit me down: Consult note on 1. 86 of The Deserted Vil- 
lage. 

34, an: We should say "a." In Goldsmith's day, however, 
"an" — the original form of the indefinite article — was still 
used before a sounded " h " and consonants. See note on 1. 93 of 
The Deserted Village, and The Century Dictionary. 

41. school-taught pride: This phrase refers to the schools 
of the Stoic philosophers, who held and taught that ail things 
in life were to be met in a spirit of passive endurance; to 
them joy and pain were meaningless terms. 

45-48. Ye glittering towns, etc: The figures of speech known 
as parallelism and apostrophe. Groldsmith here imitates the 
example of poets like Pope, who, making their thoughts fit 
into a special form of verse — the heroic couplet — usually wrote 
mechanically. Such poets are often said to belong to the 
" classical school." 

48. Swains : A. S. Swan, denoting first a " herdsman,'' then a 
"servant" and finally a "countryman;" "swain" is a favorite 
word in classical poetry and is used somewhat obscurely to denote 
" shepherds," " lovers," or " rustics " of any sort. Here the mean- 
ing is merely " peasant." Cf . 



NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 67 

" Haply some hoary-headed swain may say 
* Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn.' " 
Gray, Elegy in a Country Churchyard. — dress: "till," "culti- 
vate." The choice of words in this line makes the picture sug- 
gested vivid and realistic. Cf . " And the Lord God took the 
man, and put him into the Garden of Eden to dress it and to 
keep it."— Genesis II., 15. 

69. panting at the line : " Suffering from the intense heat at 
the equator." Cf . " Twenty of the dog-days now reign in's nose : 
all that stand about him are under the line." Shak., Hen. VIII., 
v., 4. 

72. And thanks his gods for all the good they gave: Cf. 
"Take the good the gods provide thee." — Dryden, Alexander's 
Feast, 88. 

79, 80. given, even: See note on 11. 21-22 j also Gummere's 
Handbook of Poetics, 155. 

83. as well: See note on 1. 24. 

84. Idra: Idria is a mountain town on the rocky banks of 
the river Idria, in Carniola, an Austrian province noted for its 
mines of quicksilver. — Arno : The famous Arnus of the Romans ; 
a large river of Tuscany in Italy, rising in the Apennines, flow- 
ing westward past the cities of Florence and Pisa, and emptying 
into the Mediterranean Sea. The Arno, though nearly 200 miles 
in length, has an uncertain navigability, since it is especially 
subject to floods. The valley of the Arno between Florence and 
Pisa is one of the most productive and most beautiful vales 
in Italy. 

87. art: Art is sharply contrasted with Nature in 1. 81. 
The blessings from Art, according to Goldsmith, include whatever 
man learns to do for his advantage or betterment, whereas 
Nature includes primarily impulses, instincts, and individual apti- 
tudes. According to J. S. Mill, " Art is but the employment 
of the powers of Nature for an end." From this viewpoint Art 
is active; Nature, passive. 

This form of personified contrast, often pushed to a labored 
extreme, is frequently met with in the verse of the Augustan 
poets. Goldsmith, though the spirit of his poetry looks forward 
rather than backward, was never able, by reason of his loyal 
adherence to the heroic couplet, to keep himself wholly un- 
trammeled by the measured extravagancies peculiar to the verse 
of the classical school. See Introduction. 

90. either : This use of " either " with more than two persons 
or things is at variance with the best modern usage. 



68 NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 

91-98. The same idea pervades The Deserted Village. Cf. also 
IL 397-412. 

100: The poet's viewpoint is from an Alpine height. See note 
on 11. 31-36. 

103. yon neglected shrub: This phrase scarcely reveals a 
love of wild nature. Read Burns's Lines to a Mountain Daisy 
and Bryant's The Fringed Gentian. 

106-164: Goldsmith's description of Italy, both in material and 
in phrasing, shows traces of the influence of Addison's Letter 
from Italy, published in 1701. 

113-122: Cf. with these lines Addison's "Letter," 11. 55-60, 
65-68:— 

" See how the golden groves around me smile, 
That shun the coast of Britain's stormy isle. 
Or, when transplanted and preserved with care. 
Curse the cold clime and starve in northern air; 
Here kindly warmth their mountain juice ferments. 

Where western gales eternally reside. 
And all the seasons lavish all their pride; 
Blossoms and fruits and flowers together rise. 
And the whole year in gay confusion lies." 

Cited by Tupper. 

121. gelid: Etymologically this word would mean " very cool " 
or " icy." The meaning here, however, seems to be " pleasingly 
cool." In Ben Jonson's The 'New hm occurs the phrase " Gelid 
sighs " ; " gelid " is very uncommon in both prose and poetry. 

124, sensual bliss: The bliss that comes from an exercise 
of the senses is probably the thought, vice not being implied, 
though some editors regard these words as a direct reference 
to Italian sensuality. 

125. florid: From the Latin flos, a flower, and here used 
in its original, though uncommon, meaning of *' flowery," or " lux- 
uriant." 

127. manners: The meaning is clearly wider than modern 
usage of the word would imply; perhaps " customs " or " habits 
of activity " is the idea. Hales asserts that in this line " man- 
ners " is equivalent to the Latin mores. 

129. zealous, yet untrue: In this antithesis Goldsmith seems 
more concerned with the rhyme than the truth. The history of 
the Italian nation hardly warrants the use of so harsh a char- 
acterizing epithet as " untrue." " Zealous " is probably to be 
taken in a religious sense. Consult note on 11. 145-164. 



NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 69 

133-134: The reference here is to the closing years of the 
Middle Ages when many of the Italian cities controlled the 
commerce of Europe. For a short account of the history of Italy 
during the Middle Ages consult Duruy's History of the Middle 
Ages, Book IX., XXIX. 

137. beyond e'en nature warm: "Warm" is a predicate ad- 
jective agreeing with " canvas." The verb " glowed " is largely 
copulative in effect, and the connection between " canvas " and 
" warm " is consequently that between noun and adjective. Sim- 
ilar idioms are " feel strong," " look bright," etc. 

139-140: The dying' out of Italian commerce was hastened by 
the discovery of America and of the sea route to India. It will 
be recalled that Columbus was a Genoese. 

143. skill: Cf. " So feeble skill of perfect things the vulgar 
has." Spenser, Faerie Queene, V., iii., 17. 

144. plethoric: The thought is that the Italian state in the 
period of its decline may be compared to a human body bloated 
but undermined by disease. 

145-164: During the fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries, Italy was made up of numerous states, each 
sufficient unto itself and having little to do with other states 
except as rivalry and jealousy found issue in civil war. The 
Renaissance was the only unifying influence until the middle 
of the nineteenth century, when two large-visioned leaders arose, 
Cavour in Sardinia and Garibaldi, " the patriot leader of the 
South." Chiefly through the efforts of these men a desire for 
national liberty and unity was inspired in the populace, and 
the Italy of to-day was made possible. 

150. The pasteboard triumph: The Italians have long been 
noted for their fondness for carnivals and processions, — substi- 
tutes for the splendor of the triumphs of the past. Cf. Gold- 
smith's Inquiry into the Present State of Polite Learning, IV. 

151, 152. love, grove: Consult note on 11. 21, 22. 

153, 154: Goldsmith's biographers relate the following inci- 
dent concerning the composition of these lines: Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds paid a morning call to Goldsmith and found him writing 
The Traveller and teaching a pet dog to beg on its haunches, — 
both at the same time. The poet laughingly admitted that his 
double occupation suggested the above lines, the ink on the 
second being still wet when Sir Joshua came in. 

163. pile: Cf. "High Whitby's cloistered pile." Scott, Mar- 
mion, II., 1. 

165-174: Goldsmith's lack of admiration for the rugged 
beauty of Swiss scenery is typical of the attitude of the poets 
of the classical age toward wild nature. Grandeur and sub- 



70 NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 

limity did not make the same appeal to Goldsmith that they 
later made to Byron and other romantic poets. 

167. bleak Swiss: An effective use of the figure known as 
metonymy. * 

170. man and steel: This line refers to the far-famed prowess 
of the Swiss in arms. From the middle of the seventeenth 
century they were in demand as mercenary soldiers throughout 
Europe, especially in France and Spain. See Carlyle's The 
French Revolution^ VI., VII. 

171. vernal: A stock adjective in poetry of the eighteenth 
century. 

181. costly: See note on 1. 167. 

182. vegetable meal: An allusion to the economic condition 
of the peasantry of Europe, especially of France, during the 
eighteenth century. Meat was seldom eaten by the poor. See 
Duruy's History of France^ 515. 

187. finny deep: See note on 1. 167. 
190. savage: Cf. 

"When the grim savage (the lion), to his rifled den 
Too late returning, snuffs the track of men." 

Pope, lliady XVIII. 

215. Hence: An adverb modifying "flies," and to be regarded 
as almost synonymous with the phrase, " from such lands." 
The effect of this wording, however, is emphatic rather than 
tautological. — science : Cf . the Latin scientia. 

234. cowering: Cf. Dry den's 

" Our dame sits cowering o'er a kitchen fire.'* 

243-254: These verses are full of autobiographical interest. 
Compare The Vicar of Wakefield, XX., for a more detailed 
account of Goldsmith's wanderings. Also see Introduction. 

244. Loire: The principal river of France; it rises on the 
western declivity of the Cevennes and flows in a general westerly 
direction into the Bay of Biscay. The current is very swift and 
there are many treacherous shallows. 

253. skilled in gestic lore: possessing much knowledge con- 
cerning the art of dancing. " Gestic " is now obsolete, and 
" gesticulatory," its successor, has come to apply almost ex- 
clusively to movements of the body and especially of the arms. 
Scott in Peveril of the Peak, XXX., refers to dancing as the 
"gestic art." 

256. Thus idly busy rolls their world away: "Idly busy" 
is the rhetorical figure known as oxymoron, — the addition to 
a word of an epithet of opposite signification. 



NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 71 

265-266: Lines often pointed out as packed with meaning and 
happily expressed. 

273. tawdry: The origin of this word is interesting. Consult 
Skeat's Etymological Dictionary. 

276. frieze: A coarse, woolen cloth woven originally in 
Friesland. 

277. cheer: Cf. " Small cheer, and great welcome, makes a 
merry feast." Shak., Comedy of Errors, III., 1. 

283. Methinks: The meaning of this word, as a study of its 
Anglo-Saxon parentage reveals, is " It seems to me.'* The verb 
is thus intransitive, and the pronoun a survival of the Dative 
case. Consult any unabridged dictionary. 

286. rampire: A large area of the most fertile part of 
Holland lies below the surface of the North Sea, and has 
been reclaimed from inundation by means of dikes or ramparts. 
Consult Story of the Nations, Holland, XXIV. 

293. slow: An aptly chosen adjective. 

303. Are: The apparent plurality of the subject attracts the 
verb from the singular, the correct grammatical form, to the 
plural, although such a breach of grammatical usage is scarcely 
justifiable on any ground. 

305-312: Goldsmith's portrayal of the Dutch is manifestly 
unjust. Goldsmith had his prejudices, and his writings are not 
free from wild statements and rash conclusions. Yet it seems 
surprising that the many virtues of the Dutch should have es- 
caped his keenly observant eye. See note on 1. 286. 

313. Belgic: It is possible that the poet confuses the Belgians 
with the Dutch; Belgian may refer, however, in a far-fetched 
sense, to the ancestors of the dwellers in both the Netherlands 
and Belgium. 

319. Arcadian: A favorite word in pastoral poetry. Arcadia 
was a province in the Peloponnesus in Greece in which the 
writers of the Renaissance laid the scene of pastoral romances. 
Later the idea of exact location was lost and the word became 
used in a general sense. Compare " In Tempe or the Vales of 
Arcady ? " Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn. 

" Those golden times 
And those Arcadian scenes that Maro sings. 
And Sidney, warbler of poetic prose." 

Cowper, The Task, IV., The Winter Evening, 514. 
The Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney is, of course, recalled. 

320. Hydaspes: The modern Jhelum, the westernmost of the 
five rivers of the Punjab, India. On its banks Alexander the 



72 NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 

Great in 326 B. C, built a war fleet and conquered Porus, a 
powerful Indian king. 

324. This line means that the climate is equable; there are 
no extremes of heat and cold except in fancy. 

327. port: Cf. 

" Then should the warlike Harry, like himself. 
Assume the port of Mars." 

Shak., Eenry V., 1, cho. 
333: The meaning of this line is that the peasant boasts 
that he scorns these rights. Observe the poet's use of the in- 
finitive. 
357. noble stems: Cf. 

" Ye may all that are of noble stem, 
Approach and kiss her sacred vesture's hem." 

Milton, Arcades, 82, 

362: Goldsmith was no friend to literary patronage. Nu- 
merous anecdotes are told illustrative of his honest independence 
of spirit. One is that he rejected the patronage of the Duke 
( then the Earl ) of Northumberland in the words, " I look to 
the booksellers for support, they are my best friends, and I 
am not inclined to forsake them for others." See Irving's Life 
of Goldsmith. 

The fact that Goldsmith dedicated The Traveller to his brother 
Henry, The Deserted Village to Sir Joshua Reynolds, and She 
Stoops to Conquer to Samuel Johnson betokens contempt for 
patronage. Johnson was of like mold. 

365 : " The literature of the last century abounds in apos- 
trophes to liberty." Hales. 

379, 380. arms, warms: Consult note on 11. 21, 22. Cf. 

" And the June sun warm 
Setting as then over Fernside farm." 

Whittier, Telling the Bees. 

382-392: Read Chapter XIX. of The Vicar of Wakefield, and 
the preface to Goldsmith's History of England. Regarding mat- 
ters of government, the poet, despite his sympathy with the 
lower classes, was an uncompromising Royalist, believing, and 
often expressing his belief, in the divine right of kings. 

382. Contracting regal power: These words derive their force 
from the fact that, at the time when The Traveller was written, 
the sovereign power of George III. as king was somewhat in 
jeopardy. The Tories supported the king, but the Whigs, in 
two warring factions, relentlessly opposed him. Consult Green's 
Short History of the English People, 



NOTES ON THE TRAVELLER 73 

388: In this line the poet alludes, no doubt, to Englishmen, 
who, gaining vast wealth from dishonorable enterprises in India, 
returned to England and purchased the votes of rotten boroughs. 
Compare Macaulay's Essay on Warren Hastings. ..." The 
business of a servant of the company was simply to wring out of 
the natives a hundred, or two hundred thousand pounds, as 
speedily as possible, that he might return home before his consti- 
tution had suffered from the heat, to marry a peer's daughter, to 
buy rotten boroughs in Cornwall, and to give balls in St. James's 
Square." 

397-412: This passage contains the central theme of The 
Deserted Village. 

404. barren solitary pomp : This is an especially vivid phrase. 
Lands that formerly gave support to many families, now had 
fallen into the possession of the rich, who occupied their acres 
in haughty isolation. Consult Introduction to The Deserted 
Village. 

406. fall: In many cases entire villages were swept from 
the country-side to extend the domain of a wealthy estate- 
purchaser. See note on 1. 404. 

407. duteous : Cf . " Raphael's cheek so duteous and so lov- 
ing." Robert Browning, One Word More, 15. 

410. beyond the western main: The poet uses the same 
phrase in The Deserted Village, 1. 368. 

411. Oswego: A river in New York flowing north into Lake 
Ontario. The sonorous sound of the word probably accounts 
for its selection. It has been noted by many commentators that 
Goldsmith was one of the first poets to employ Indian nomen- 
clature. 

412. Niagara: Note the penultimate accent required by the 
meter. This- pronunciation still prevails to a large extent in 
England. 

415-416. These lines were doubtless inspired by the poet's 
memory of the French and Indian wars, the fierceness of which 
had appalled all England. Consult any reliable American his- 
tory covering this ground. — 420, 429-434, 437-438. These verses 
were written by Dr. Johnson. " The admirably pure and tender 
heart, and exquisite intellectual refinement implied in the Vicar 
and the Traveller, force us to love Goldsmith in spite of super- 
ficial foibles, and when Johnson prunes or interpolates lines in 
The Traveller, we feel as though a woodman's axe was hacking 
at a most delicate piece of carving." Leslie Stephen, English 
Men of Letters Series, Johnson, III., 78. 



74 NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

436. Luke's iron crown: A revolt of Hungarian peasants was 
headed in 1514 by two brothers belonging to the Transylvanian 
nobility, Luke and George Dozsa. The peasant force, according 
to some authorities consisting of nearly 50,000 men, purposed 
to wage a crusade against the Turks, but their religious zeal 
soon gave way to a desire for lawless power. While the army 
lay before Temesvar, which narrowly escaped capture, George, 
not Luke, Dozsa was taken prisoner by the supporters of the 
government, and forced to sit on a red-hot throne, wear a red- 
hot crown, and wield a red-hot sceptre, for allowing himself to 
be proclaimed King of Hungary. Some editors are of the opinion 
that Goldsmith deviated from historical fact to avoid making 
what might be construed as even a veiled reference to George III. 
of England. Consult 8tory of the Nations, Hungary. — Damiens' 
bed of steel: Robert Frangois Damiens was a French fanatic 
who, in 1757, crowned a life of dissipation and idleness with 
an abortive attempt to stab Louis XV. as he was entering his 
carriage bound for the Trianon. By the populace, the Jesuits 
were believed to have been the instigators of the crime. Damiens 
was diabolically tortured in a vain effort to make him reveal 
the names of his supposed f ellow-conspirators j boiling oil, slow 
fire, glowing pincers, and an iron-pointed bed-chair were the 
chief instruments employed. Finally his body was torn apart, 
limb by limb, by four strong horses; his remains were burned; 
and his family was exiled from France. Consult Guizot's His- 
tory of France, Black's translation, VL, 221-222. 



NOTES 
THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

Line 1. Sweet Auburn: There is no actual Auburn on the 
map, except an Aldbourn, or Auburn, in Wiltshire, near Marl- 
borough; but there is no reason for supposing that Goldsmith 
had this village in mind. The name Auburn, according to 
Forster's Life of Goldsmith, IL, 206, was suggested by the 
poet's friend and fellow member of The Literary Club, Bennet 
Langton. The euphony of the word no doubt had much to do 
with its final selection. 

See Howitt's Homes and Haunts of the British Poets, 203, 
note on 11. 12, 129-136, and Introduction. 

2-4: Pope or Johnson might have written these lines, so 



NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 75 

typical are they of the prim manner of the verse of the classical 
school. 

2. health and plenty: An example of the many personified 
abstractions scattered throughout both The Traveller and The 
Deserted Village. It is an interesting exercise to note and 
compute the number of times that Goldsmith makes use of this 
poetic device, — a link between his manner of writing and that 
of the classical versifiers. Consult Introduction, and note on 1. 
87 of The Traveller. 

4. parting: Cf. "Now in peace my soul shall part to 
Heaven." Shak., Rich. III., II., 1, 5. 

"The curfew tolls the knell of parting day." Gray, Elegy in 
a Country Churchyard, 1. 

5-15: Goldsmith's manner of writing verse, according to a 
law-clerk friend — Cooke, by name — was to take infinite pains, 
polishing and revising, until the connotation and the colloca- 
tion of the words selected, satisfied all demands of precision. 
Concerning the composition of The Deserted Village in particular, 
an article appearing in an issue of The European Magazine in 
1793 says: 

" Ten lines, from the fifth to the fifteenth, had been his 
(Goldsmith's) second morning's work; and when Cooke entered 
his chamber he read them to him aloud. ... * Come,' he 
added, * let me tell you this is no bad morning's work ; and now, 
my dear boy, if you are not better engaged, I should be glad to 
enjoy Shoemaker's Holiday with you.' " 

6. Seats of my youth: Cf. "Seats of power," "seats of au- 
thority," " country-seat," " county-seat," etc. 

7, green: a small piece of greensward often belonging to the 
community as a whole; in many cases, the green was a remnant 
of old, unappropriated common land. Consult Lecky's History 
of England in the Eighteenth Century, VII., XXI. Cf. 

" I walk unseen 
On the dry smooth-shaven green." 

Milton, II Penseroso, 66. 

10. cot: Cf. 

" At length his lonely cot appears in view." 

Burns, The Cotter's Saturday Night, 19. 
12. decent: Cf. The Vicar of Wakefield, X., where the Vicar 
says, " A decent behaviour and appearance in church is what 
charms me." 

" Over thy decent shoulders drawn." 

Milton, II Penseroso, 36. 



76 NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

If Dr. Stream, Henry Goldsmith's successor as rector of Kil- 
kenny West in 1807, is to be believed, the details of this de- 
scription are a reproduction of the scenery about Lissoy. 

Sir Walter Scott, however, regards much of this identification 
as fanciful. See Scott's Miscellaneous Prose Works, III., 250, 
the Introduction, and notes on 11. 129-136. 

13. The hawthorn bush: The hawthorn is a shrub, or small 
tree, growing usually to a height of about 25 feet, indigenous 
to Europe, Siberia and Northern Africa. Being tough in fiber, 
and producing a thick foliage, it is valuable for hedges. The 
hawthorn flowers generally in May. Cf. 

"The hawthorn whitens; and the juicy groves 
Put forth their buds." 

Thomson, Springy 90. 
"And every shepherd tells his tale 
Under the hawthorn in the dale." 

Milton, L' Allegro, 67-68. 
See note on 11. 129-136. 

14. talking age: See note on L 2. 

17. train: Another favorite word with Goldsmith; it occurs 
nine times in The Deserted Village and twice in The Traveller. 
Cf. 

"To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, 
The lowly train in life's sequestered scene." 

Burns, The Cotter*s Saturday Night, 5-6. 

20. young contending: The absolute use of both the present 
and the past participle is a common construction in Goldsmith's 
poetry. Other examples of this construction occur in 11. 108, 
111, 297. See note on L 79. 

28. still: Cf. 

"And even the like precurse of fierce events, 
As harbingers preceding still the fates." 

Shak., Hamlet, L, 121-122. 

29. virgin: A common synonym for girl, or maiden, in eight- 
eenth century verse, — like matron for married woman, and 
swain for peasant. 

35. lawn: Not an expanse of closely cropped sward — the 
meaning to-day — but a stretch of open country. Cf. 1. 319 
of The Traveller. " Lawn " is frequently used in the above sense 
by Chaucer, Milton, Dryden, Pope, and Tennyson. 

37. tyrant's hand: oppression on the part of a rich estate- 
owner. All editors refer to the action of one General Napier, 



NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 77 

who, returning enriched from campaigning in Spain and taking 
up his abode near Lissoy, "turned all his tenants out of their 
farms that he might enclose them in his own private domain." 
See Introduction, and Irving, Life of Goldsmith. This incident 
may have been in Goldsmith's mind when these verses were 
written. 

39. only master: Gf. 

" One only being shalt thou not subdue." 

Shelley, Prometheus Unbound, I., 265. 

40. half a tillage: According to the poet, the land was more 
extensively tilled, and consequently more productive, when the 
peasants worked it than when it passed into the possession of 
the rich. This is scarcely the truth, however. See Introduction, 
and Lecky, History of England in the Eighteenth Century, VII., 
XXI. 

42. works its weedy way: Notice the alliteration, another 
poetic device of which Goldsmith, like his contemporaries and 
immediate predecessors, was fond. 

44. hollow-sounding bittern: A bird frequenting swamps and 
sedgy rivers. Its cry sounds like a far-away, uncanny booming. 

Cf. " I will also make it a possession for the bittern, and 
pools of water." 

Isaiah, XIV., 23. 
" So that scarce 
The bittern knows his time with bill ingulphed. 
To shake the sounding marsh." 

Thomson, The Seasons, Spring. 

49. shrinking: An allusion to the emigration of the peas- 
antry. See Introduction. 

51. Ill . . . ills: Certainly a harsh line; perhaps pur- 
posely so, to fit the sense. Despite his keenly musical ear, Gold- 
smith permitted himself many lapses from smoothness. Consult 
Introduction. 

53. Princes and lords: A phrase not original with Goldsmith; 
preceding poets had occasionally used it; later Burns incor- 
porated it in the well known line of The Cotter's Saturday Night, 

" Princes and lords are but the breath of kings." A close exam- 
ination of the imagery of The Cotter's Saturday Night shows how 
sympathetically Burns had read The Deserted Village. 

55-56: For a discussion of the truth of this sentiment see 
Introduction. 

57. England's griefs: The Irish poet here is evidently think- 



78 NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

ing solely of England. Auburn need not have been Lissoy. See 
Introduction, and notes on 11. 1, 12, 37, 129-136. 

63. trade's unfeeling train: Those getting wealthy through 
commerce and manufactures. This part of the poet's economic 
doctrine is obviously unsound. See Introduction. 

74. manners: See note on 1. 127 of The Traveller. 

76. confess. Cf. 

** The lovely stranger stands confest, 
A maid in all her charms." 

Goldsmith, The Hermit, 91-92. 
79. elapsed: Absolute use of the past participle. Cf. 11. 95, 
157, 181, 393, and consult note on 1. 20. — return to view. See 
note on 1. 24 of The Traveller. 

84. In all my griefs: The reference is doubtless to the poet's 
first four or five years in London, when he was struggling for a 
livelihood as a hack writer. See Black, Life of Goldsmith, English 
men of Letters Series, IV. 
85-86: Note the pathos. 

86. lay me down: In prose the reflexive "myself" would 
be used instead of " me." Cf. 1. 32 of The Traveller. " To lay me 
down," " to husband out," and " ( to ) keep," may be regarded as 
infinitives equivalent in meaning to their respective gerunds (by 
laying me down, etc. ) dependent upon the infinitive " to crown." 

87. husband out life's taper: Cf. Goldsmith's Citizen of the 
World, XVIII. " The Dutch frugally husband out their pleas- 
ures." 

"There's husbandry in heaven; 
Their candles are all out." 

Shak., Macbeth, IL, 11. 4-5. 

93. as an hare : Modern usage would say " a " hare. See 
note on 1. 34 of The Traveller. The elaborate or formal simile was 
a characteristic feature of the verse of Goldsmith's day. Cf. 
with regard to effectiveness the use of the simile by Goldsmith 
and by Wordsworth. 

94. from whence: This phrase, pleonastic though it is, ap- 
parently has the sanction of some writers of reputable English. 
See The Century Dictionary. 

96. Here to return: Goldsmith often refers in tones of yearn- 
ing to his ties of kith and kin in Ireland. Fashionable or 
learned society only, made his " heart crave familiar, confiding 
intercourse, family fire-sides," . . . which " bring out the 
heartiest and sweetest sympathies of his nature." 

Irving, Life of Goldsmith, 446. 



NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 79 

100. age: Cf. 

" Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase ; 
Without tjiis, folly, age, and cold decay." 

Shak., Sonnet 11. 

104. tempt the^ — deep: a Latinism. Eolfe cites temptare 
Thetim ratibus; Virgil's Eclogues, IV., 32. 

105. guilty state: pomp and arrogance that evidence to the 
poet's mind criminal luxury ; hence the significance of " guilty." 

106. imploring famine : See note on 1. 2. Observe the number 
of abstract nouns personified in this passage. 

107. latter end : Cf . " Hear counsel, and receive instruction, 
that thou mayest be wise in thy latter end." Prov., XIX., 20. 

109. Bends: A happily chosen verb. Compare its appropriate- 
ness with that of " sinks," the reading in the first edition. 

110. resignation: "Sir Joshua Reynolds painted a particu- 
larly fine picture in point of expression, especially of Resigna- 
tion, and dedicated the print taken from it to Dr. Goldsmith, 
with some lines under it quoted from The Deserted Village. 
This seems to have been done by Sir Joshua as a return of the 
compliment to Goldsmith, who had dedicated the poem to him." 

Northcote's Life of Reynolds. 

111. 112: Cf. the rhyming of these verses with that of verses 
95 and 96. 

118. to meet their young: "To meet" is here equivalent to 
the gerund, " at meeting," — a common use of the infinitive in 
Shakespeare. Consult Abbott, Shakespearean Grammar, sec. 356. 
This construction is probably a Latinism. Cf. 11. 145, 148, 161, 
195, 288, 293. 

121. whispering wind: Note the union of sound and sense, — 
onomatopoeia. Find other onomatopoetic words in this passage. 

122. vacant mind: Perhaps the reference is to a village half- 
wit. 

124. nightingale: The poetic imagination again. According 
to Rolfe, there are no nightingales in Ireland. All editions 
refer to Goldsmith's Animated Nature: " Her (the nightingale's) 
note is soft, various, and interrupted; she seldom holds it without 
a pause above the time that one could count twenty. The 
nightingale's pausing song would be the proper epithet for this 
bird's music with us, which is more pleasing than the warbling 
of any other bird, because it is heard at a time when the rest 
are silent." 

126. fluctuate in the gale: A line after the mechanical 
fashion of Pope and his school. See note on 11. 2-4. 



80 . NOTES ON THE DESEETED VILLAGE 

128. bloomy: Cf. 

"O nightingale that on yon bloomy spray . . ." 

Milton, Sonnet to the Nightingale. 
129-136: The original of these verses is supposed to have 
been one Catherine Geraghty, a lonely widow who eked out a 
wretched livelihood in Lissoy. In the words of Dr. Strean (con- 
sult note on 1. 12), " Purn, the name of the village-master, 
and the site of his schoolhouse, and Catherine Geraghty, a 
lonely widow — 

*The wretched matron, forced in age, for bread, 
To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread ' 
(and to this day [1807] the brook and ditches near the spot 
where her cabin stood abound with cresses), still remain in 
the memory of the inhabitants, and Catherine's children live 
in the neighborhood. The pool, the busy mill, the house where 
* nut-brown draughts inspired,' are still visited as the poetic 
scene ; and the ' hawthorn bush,' growing in an open space in 
front of the house, which I knew to have three trunks, is now 
reduced to one, the other two having been cut, from time to 
time, by persons carrying pieces of it away to be made into 
toys, etc., in honor of the bard and of the celebrity of his poem." 
Cited by Phillips, English Literature, II., 77. 
130. plashy: Cf. 

" Seek'st thou the plashy brink 
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide . . . ? " 

Bryant, To a Waterfowl. 

133: This line suggests to several editors Wordsworth's 
" Gk)ody Blake and Harry Gill." 
136. pensive: Cf. 

" The hermit trimm'd his little fire 
And cheer'd his pensive guest." 

Goldsmith, The Hermit, 47-48. 

140. fl: Goldsmith probably wrote this description of the vil- 
lage preacher shortly after he had learned of the death of his 
brother Henry at Athlone, in May, 1768. Note the ring of 
genuine pathos. As showing the love of the poet for his brother, 
read the opening lines of The Traveller and compare them with 
this passage. It is also not improbable that Goldsmith worked 
into these verses some of the characteristics of his father, and 
perhaps, as certain critics suggest, of his Uncle Contrarine. 
Whatever its inspiration, the picture is that of an enduring type 
of English society. Consult Forster's Life of Goldsmith, II., 113; 



NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 81 

Irving's Life of Goldsmith, chapter on The Deserted Village; 
Dobson's Life, 187; and Black's Life, chapter on The Deserted 
Village; also consult note on 1. 9 of The Traveller. — mansion: 
Cf. 

" O, what a mansion have those vices got 
Which for their habitation chose out thee." 

Shak., Sonnet 95. 

142. passing rich: This use of passing as an intensive adverb 
is common in Shakespeare. Compare 

" Is she not passing fair ? " 

Shak., Two Gentlemen of Verona, IV., 4. 

Forty pounds seems to have been regarded as ample compen- 
sation for a country preacher; thirty-five pounds with certain 
perquisites was the annual stipend of the Vicar of Wakefield. 

145. to fawn: Another gerund. See note on 1. 118. 

149, 162. vagrant train: See note on 1. 17. The hospitality 
of the Irish is one of their most widely famed virtues. The poet 
knows whereof he speaks. Consult Irving's Life, I. and II. 

155. broken soldier: weakened by illness or age, probably. 
The reference may be to " Paddy " Byrne, who was an ex-soldier 
and a master hand at recalling and inventing tales of war-time. 

162. His pity gave: "The Man in Black, Dt. Primrose and 
The Village Preacher are honest champions of generosity, charity 
and hospitality." See Introduction. 

163-164: A couplet often quoted. 

167. as a bird: A somewhat far-fetched simile. See note on 

I. 93. 

187, 188. given, heaven: Faulty rhyme. Consult note on 

II. 21, 22 of The Traveller. 

189-192: Critics agree in pronouncing these among the noblest 
lines of the poem. Note that, though the simile stands alone, 
there is no main predicate. For a similar construction cf. the 
simile beginning in 1. 287. 

194. furze: A thorny shrub found chiefly in western Europe. 
Its height usually is from two to six feet; its leaves are prickle- 
shaped; and its stem, hairy. In both spring and fall the furze 
puts forth beautiful yellow flowers. 

196-216: The original of this portrait of the Village Master is 
supposed to have been Thomas ("Paddy") Byrne. See the note 
on 1. 155, Introduction, and any of the standard biographies of 
Goldsmith. 

198. I knew him well: Another personal touch. Recall what 
is told about Goldsmith's conduct and progress in school. 



8^ NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

200. morning face: Cf. 

" And then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel 
And shining morning face, creeping like a snail 
Unwillingly to school." Shak., As You Like It, II., VIL 

205, 206. aught, fault: Faulty rhyme. "Fault," being re- 
garded as from the French faute, contained no " 1 " till the mid- 
dle of the sixteenth century, when the kinship of faute with the 
Latin fallere was recognized. The above rhyme may be partly 
justified on the ground that it is perhaps dialectic, as even to-day 
in many parts of rural Ireland, Scotland and England it is said 
that " fault " is pronounced without the " 1." 

207, ff: Note the playful sarcasm of these lines. 

209. terms : " Under the common law system in England the 
judicial year was divided into four terms, the names of which 
indicated the time of year in which they were held, viz. : Hilary 
Term, Easter Term, Trinity Term, and Michaelmas Term. These 
terms were abolished by the Judicature Acts." The New Internat. 
Encyclopedia, XVI., 597. — tides: seasons of the church year; 
in a more restricted sense, feast-days, or festivals as Whitsuntide, 
Hallowtide. The Puritans scrupulously used " tide " rather than 
" mass " in such words as the following : Christ-tide ( Christmas ) , 
Lamb-tide (Lammas), etc. 

218. forgot: Cf. 

" The blemish that will never be forgot." 

Shak., The Rape of Lucrece, 536. 

219. thorn: Cf. note on 1. 13. 

221-237 : " Opposite to it ( the hawthorn ) is the village ale- 
house, over the door of which swings * The Three Jolly Pigeons.* 
Within, everything is arranged according to the letter. . . . 
Nothing shook my faith in the reality of Auburn so much as 
this exactness, which had the disagreeable air of being got up 
for the occasion." Extract from a London periodical quoted by 
Irving, Life of Goldsmith, XXVIII. The Deserted Village made 
Lissoy so famous that an attempt was made by Captain Hogan, 
a relative of the poet, to reconstruct the village according to its 
poetic description. 

221. nut-brown draughts: Cf. 

"Then to the spicy nut-brown ale." 

Milton, U Allegro, 100. 

" Shown him by the nut-brown maids." 

Pope, Dundad, II., 337. 
227-236 : " Compare with this attractive picture of a tavern 
the following lines from Goldsmith, Description of an Author's 



NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 83 

Bedchamher, 1760 (slightly altered from a poetical passage in 
a letter to his brother Henry, 1759), and mark how a few 
changes of epithet have completely transformed a dirty interior." 
Tupper. 

^ "A window patched with paper lent a ray 

That dimly showed the state in which he layj 
The sanded floor that grits beneath the tread. 
The humid wall with paltry pictures spread; 
The royal game of goose was there in view. 
And the twelve rules the royal martyr drew. 
The seasons framed with listing found a place. 
And brave Prince William show'd his lampblack face; 
The morn was cold, — he views with keen desire 
The rusty grate, unconscious of a fire. 
With beer and milk arrears the frieze was scored. 
And fire crack'd teacups dress'd the chimney board." 
228. clock . . . clicked: See note on 1. 121. 
231. for ornament and use: The pictures were perhaps hung 
over soiled or abrased portions of the walls. 

232: The twelve good rules, commonly ascribed to King 
Charles I., were : Urge no healths ; profane no divine ordinances ; 
touch no late matters; reveal no secrets; pick no quarrels; make 
no comparisons; maintain no ill opinions; keep no bad company; 
encourage no vice; make no long meals; repeat no grievances; 
lay no wagers. — royal game of goose: According to Strutt, 
Sports and Pastimes, IV., 2 (XXV.), cited by Rolfe: "It is 
played upon a board with sixty-two compartments, and is called 
the game of goose because at every fourth and fifth compartment 
in succession a goose was depicted; and if the cast thrown by the 
player falls upon a goose, he moves forward double the number 
of his throws." 

234. aspen: A tree native to Great Britain and Scotland. 
The slightest ripple of air causes its leaves to quiver and tremble. 
— fennel: A biennial plant, three or four feet high, native to 
Southern Europe, but cultivated in England and America for the 
sake of its aromatic seeds and its leaves, which are used for 
canning. 

243. farmer's news : Trips to market make the farmer a news- 
gatherer. — the barber's tale: The pertinency of this phrase is 
evidently not of recent origin. 

244. the woodman's ballad: hunter's or forester's song; per- 
haps the reference is to Robin Hood. 

245-246: Compare these verses with Longfellow's The Village 
Blacksmith. 



84 NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

248. mantling bliss: The figure is metonymy. Cf. this use 
of mantling with that in 1. 17. — bliss. Another word that 
Goldsmith uses often. 

249. coy maid: "The English barmaid, famed in song and 
story." 

250. kiss the cup: Cf. 

"Drink to me only with thine eyes, 
And I will pledge with minej 
Or leave a kiss but in the cup. 
And I'll not look for wine." 

Ben Jonson, Song to Celia. 
" The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up ; 
He quaffed off the wine and threw down the cup." 

Scott, Young Lochinvar. 
254. native: Cf. 

" Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child. 
Warble his native wood-notes wild." 

Milton, L'Allegro, 128-129. 
— art: See note on 1. 87 of The Traveller. 
256. owns: Cf. 

" I own the soft impeachment." 

Sheridan, The Rivals, V., 3. 

258. TJnenvied, unmolested, nnconfined: An effective grouping 
of negative participles. Recall Scott's " unwept, unhonored and 
unsung " ( Lay of the Last Minstrel, VI. ) , and Byron's " unknelled, 
uncoffined, and unknown," {Ghilde Harold, IV., 179). The 
same word scheme is found also in Milton and in Shakespeare. 

259. pomp: Cf. 

" For on her, as queen, 
A pomp of winning Graces waited still." 

Milton, Paradise Lost, VIII., 61. 
265-285: Lines expressing the leading tenet of the poet's 
economic creed. See Introduction, and notes on 11. 37, 63, 295. 
267. 'Tis yours: Cf. 

" Farewell ! Be it ours to embellish thy pillow." 

Moore, Lalla Rookh. 

269, ff: The meaning is that, while much money is flowing 

into England as a result of her expanding commerce, this wealth 

is obtained by the barter of necessities; so the rich man gets 

richer, and the poor man, poorer. Cf. The Traveller, 1. 398, and 

"However puffed with power and gorged with wealth 

A nation bej let trade enormous rise, 



NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 85 

Let East and South their mingled treasure pour. 
Till, swell'd impetuous, the corrupting flood 
Burst o'er the city and devour the land." 

Thomson's Liberty, cited by Tupper. 
287. fair female: This use of the word "female" was com- 
mon in reputable writing of the eighteenth and nineteenth cen- 
turies. Nowadays, good taste prefers " woman," and restricts 
" female " to use as an adjective, or as a noun with reference to 
animals of a lower order than man. 

293. solicitous to bless: True as this portrait is to one of 
the repellent phases of life, there is a note of pathos running 
through it. 

294. In all the glaring Impotence of dress: Goldsmith did 
not always practice what he preached. To him clothes were 
anything* but " impotent." See Introduction. 

295. Thus fares the land: Cf. The Deserted Village, 1. 51. — 
by luxury betrayed. Boswell reports that Johnson once re- 
marked at a dinner given by Gen. Oglethorpe in honor of Boswell, 
Goldsmith and Johnson : " Luxury, so far as it reaches the 
poor, will do good to the race of people; it will strengthen and 
multiply them. Sir, no nation was ever hurt by luxury; for, 
as I said before, it can never reach but to a very few.' " 

Boswell, Life of Johnson, Edited by Birrell, III., 73. 

297. verging to decline: See note on 1. 20. 

312. To pamper luxury and thin mankind: For comment on 
this false reasoning see Introduction. 

315, f£: Note the profusion of vivid contrasts in these verses. 

318. the black gibbet: In the eighteenth century the gallows 
was a common feature of the landscape, — especially in the 
suburbs. " Capital punishment was, of course, more frequent • 
than in our days, because there were so many more offenses pun- 
ishable by it. In London alone, from the commencement of Sir 
Thos. Abney's mayoralty in 1701, to the end of that of Sir Richard 
Hoare in 1713, 242 malefactors were hanged at Tyburn and other 
places." Ashton, Social Life in the Reign of Queen Anne, XL., 
407. 

Regarding the frequency of executions conditions were about 
the same in Goldsmith's day. Green Arbour Court, where he 
lived from 1759 till 1761, was near the famous Newgate prison 
and Old Bailey Sessions House, whither all prisoners appre- 
hended within ten miles of London were taken and, if con- 
demned, publicly executed. 

321. blazing square: There being no street lamps, "link- 
boys " carried torches to guide, on the streets at night, the steps 



86 NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

of pedestrians and the progress of coaches. For an interesting 
account of London during Goldsmith's day consult Besant's 
London in the Eighteenth Century. 

326. the poor houseless, shivering female: Sympathy for the 
outcast was one of Goldsmith's finest traits. See Irving, Life of 
Goldsmith, XXXV. 

In The City Night-Piece in The Bee, IV., occurs the following 
passage : " Why, why was I born a man, and yet see the suffer- 
ings I cannot relieve! Poor houseless creatures! the world will 
give you reproaches, but will not give you relief." Cf. The 
Deserted Village, 1. 332. See Introduction. 

"Goldsmith in 326-336 anticipates Burns's The Cotter's Sat- 
urday Night 82-90, and To a Mountain Daisy 31-36, and Hocd's 
The Bridge of Sighs." Whiteford. 

328. innocence distrest: See note on 1. 2. 

330. Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn: There 
can be no finer descriptive poetry than this verse. For critical 
comment see Black, Life of Goldsmith, chapter on The Deserted 
Village. Cf. 

" O fairest flower ! no sooner blown than blasted. 
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly." 

Milton, Ode on the Death of a Fair Infa/nt. 
" Bring the rathe primrose that forsaken dies." 

Milton, Lycidas, 142. 

338. participate her pain: A stereotyped phrase. See note 
on 11. 2-4. 

343, flf. Goldsmith's idea of Georgia and of the New World 
in general was rather vague, though no more so than that of many 
Englishmen of his day. Goldsmith saw only the pathetic aspect 
of the emigration of the peasants; it never occurred to him that 
the prospects of the exiles might have a happy side. " He cannot 
fancy his hearth blazing as brightly on the other side of the 
Atlantic as in the old country, or picture any * Smiling Village ' 
there with gay swains and coy-glancing maidens." Hales. 

344. Altama: The Altamaha (accent on the last syllable), a 
river in Georgia, of which the poet may have heard his friend, 
Gen. Oglethorpe, speak, the latter having been instrumental in 
establishing the colony of Georgia in 1732. 

355. crouching tigers: "Some commentators object to this 
on the ground that there are no tigers in Georgia; Rolfe thinks 
that the reference is to the jaguar and the puma, ' the American 
tigers.' Probably the actual presence or absence of the tiger was 
a matter about which Goldsmith was utterly indifferent. There 
are similar errors in other parts of the description. Goldsmith 



NOTES ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 87 

wanted tigers for poetical purposes, as Shakespeare required 
lions in the forest of Arden." 

^ Paneoast, Standard English poems, 661. 

369, 370: Note the effective repetition of words and phrases 
in this couplet. 

386. things like these: The innocence and the happiness of 
rural life are the things referred to, — the central idea of the 
poem. " These " has no expressed antecedent. 

398: Here begins a figure known as "vision," sometimes de- 
fined as " The representation of past events, or imaginary objects 
and scenes, as actually present to the senses." Head Byron's 
Apostrophe to Rome in Canto II of Ghilde Harold. 

402. shore, strand: Goldsmith evidently distinguishes between 
these two words. Strand may mean the line of sand next the 
sea; shore, the soil beyond the strand. 

408. sensual joys: See note on 1. 124 of The Traveller, 

409. degenerate times: A period with many interests un- 
favorable to poetry. Recall Macaulay's famous sentence, " As 
civilization advances, poetry almost necessarily declines." Essay 
on Milton, 

410. To catch the heart: Does not this phrase apply with 
special force to Goldsmith's own poetry? 

412. my solitary pride: Goldsmith would have liked to write 
poetry better than prose; and it was to earn money that he paid 
more attention to the latter. He is reported to have said, " I 
cannot afford to court the draggle-tail muses, they would let me 
starve. Then by my other labours I can make shift to eat and 
drink and have good clothes." — My shame in crowds: Boswell 
quotes Johnson as saying with reference to Goldsmith's conver- 
sational abilities : " Goldsmith should not be forever attempting 
to shine in conversation: he has not temper for it, he is so 
much mortified when he fails, Boswell; Life of Johnson, edited 
by Birrell, III., 85, 86. 

415. nobler arts: Music, painting, architecture, sculpture, etc. 

418. Torno: There is a Lake Tornea in northern Sweden, and 
a river Tornea, that flows into the Gulf of Bothnia. — Pamba- 
marca. One of the peaks of the Andes near Quito in Ecuador, 
South America. The poet gains in effect by making his allu- 
sions widely distant from each other. 

427, ff: "Dr. Johnson . . . favored me by marking the 
lines which he furnished to Goldsmith's * The Deserted Village,* 
which are only the last four." Boswell, Life of Johnson, Edited 
by Birrell, II., 164. See note on 1. 420 of The Traveller. 



SUGGESTIVE MATERIAL FOR THE TEACHER 

IN GENERAL 

The Teaching of Poetry. Can poetry be taught? Many good 
teachers of English hold, not without much truth, that poetry, 
being largely illusive and imaginative, appealing primarily to 
the heart, cannot, strictly speaking, be taught; others see in the 
teaching of poetry wide opportunities to arouse a love of the 
beautiful, to interpret life, and to determine and strengthen 
character. In each point of view there is truth. The first object 
of the study of poetry is obviously to give emotional pleasure to 
the reader; temperaments varying aa they do, not all who study 
the same poetic masterpiece will experience, and cannot be 
trained to experience, the same degree of emotional pleasure. 
Nevertheless, it is the business of the teacher to aim, first of all, 
to arouse and to cultivate in his pupils the spirit of appreciation. 
Analysis and critical study sensibly carrted out should be, and 
may be, made a most effective means to this end. 

The Teacher's Personality. To teach poetry successfully the 
teacher must be himself genuinely fond of poetry. He must 
possess, to a large degree, the interpretative faculty, and, to 
some degree, the critical faculty, if he would know whereof he 
speaks. To this supremely important aspect of the teacher's 
equipment — the ability to interpret at first hand — the " at- 
mosphere" of the classroom will always respond; there will be 
" life." 

Method. The place and the importance of method in the 
teaching of poetry are not to be denied. The editor once heard 
a successful teacher of English say: "Method is the man or 
woman behind the desk; that is, there is no such thing as 
method." True enough, from one point of view, and yet like 
all paradoxes, such a statement is not the whole truth. Indeed, 
the problem of knowing how to conduct a class in English so 
as to make every phase of the instruction count, is perplexing. 
A few suggestions, therefore, that are the outgrowth of expe- 
rience, may have a little value. 

First Reading. The first thing to be done is to have the 
pupils read the poem at one sitting, if possible, so that they 
will gain some notion of it as a whole. The teacher should 

88 



IN GENERAL 89 

ask questions looking to this end, — questions bringing out in 
a general way the purpose, the setting, the story (if there is 
any), the prominent descriptive parts, and the characters. At 
this stage of the instruction the less said about style, the better. 
Original opinions, no matter how crude, if they are sincere, 
are to be welcomed. Even let the poem be interpreted in terms 
of what the pupils already know and have seen. Encourage 
the pupils to talk over their English work at home. Request 
them to bring to class the opinions of parents or friends. The 
main thing is that the pupils be made to feel that the poem 
has something in it for them. Familiarity will not breed con- 
tempt. 

Collateral Reading. A good deal of collateral reading may 
be profitably assigned before the analytic study of the poem is 
begun. When the poem was written, by whom, why, how it was 
received; the political, the social, the literary life, of the time — 
such are some of the lines of study that would suggest material 
for special reports, the substance of which the class should be 
required to jot down in notebooks and later to review for exam- 
ination. Several results will thus ensue: familiarity with books, 
and perhaps a taste for reading, a broad knowledge of the 
setting of the poem, and an arousal of interest in the class- 
room work. 

Analytic Study. The pupils ought now to be ready to ex- 
amine the poem more or less minutely. The choice and the 
arrangement of material and the language should receive atten- 
tion. One caution here: let the teacher beware of falling into 
the error of expecting too much from immature minds. And 
yet boys and girls are not devoid of a sense of humor and pathos, 
of the beautiful and the sublime in life and in literature; and 
there is no reason why it should not be highly profitable to 
point out such and kindred elements in the poem that is 
being studied. It is a good thing to encourage the pupils to 
bring into class illustrations from any source, of the chief 
qualities of style, comparison and contrast are helpful. Happy 
turns of expression; vivid words, passages worthy of being com- 
mitted to memory, peculiarities of diction and construction, 
allusions, figures of speech, the meter, the substance of the 
notes, the main features of the structure of the poem, — all 
these aspects of style, a careful analysis must take into account. 

General Review. After this analysis a general review of 
everything covered in class will be found profitable. It is often 
effective for the teacher to read parts of the poem to the class, 
the books being closed, and then to ask where the passage read 



90 SUGGESTIVE MATERIAL FOR THE TEACHER 

occurs, the point of it, and the relation of it to the remainder 
of the poem. 

Critical Estimates. At this stage of the study of the poem 
a few happily written critical estimates may be passed upon by 
the class. Here is a chance to introduce the pupils to a few 
fundamentals of literary criticism. The mistake should not be 
made, however, of treating such work as of supreme importance. 

Final Eeading. The last thing for the teacher to do is to 
read the poem aloud to the class, never making a comment. 
In this way the swing and the spirit of the poem will con- 
stitute the final impression. 

Reading in Class. It is agreed that one important phase of 
the duty of every teacher of English is to give instruction in 
the oral reading of poetry. Unfortunately, poor reading — words 
run together, a strident monotony of tone, a sing-song inflec- 
tion, a stumbling pronunciation — is the rule, rather than the 
exception. It is not such a difficult thing, this reading — that 
is, this interpreting — of poetry. Let the mood of the reader 
be receptive and appreciative; then the following suggestions will 
be of service. First, enunciate distinctly, separating the words 
and the syllables and articulating the final consonants clearly: 
to this end read aloud in private, practising difficult sounds 
and words. Secondly, be sure of the pronunciation of every 
word, placing the stresses, major and minor, just where they 
belong. Thirdly, before going into class have a definite idea of 
the meaning of every sentence and of every word in the sen- 
tence. Emphasis will then largely take care of itself, for some 
words will stand out in the thought more prominently than will 
others. Fourthly, breathe deep; send the voice forward; make 
the tones resonant and sympathetic. Fifthly, be animated in 
your reading; the eye, the countenance, even the attitude, should 
reflect the spirit of the poem. This is the most important cau- 
tion of all. 

Notebooks. Notebooks, preferably of a uniform kind, have 
their place in work in English. The teacher should carefully 
plan his own system regarding the taking of notes, and hold 
his class rigidly to it. 

Vocabulary Enlargement. One result of the study of any 
piece of literature ought to be the enlargement of the pupils' 
active list of words. An effective device is to require the adding 
of at least three new words at the end of every theme written 
outside of the class, the understanding being that such words 
have been looked up in the dictionary with reference to their 
exact meaning, exact spelling, exact pronunciation, and are to 



OUTLINE 91 

be used in later themes. Even if many words are forgotten, 
many will remain in the memory. 

Committing to Menjory. If a poem is worth studying, at least 
parts of it are worth committing to memory. Only one or two 
things need to be said upon this matter. Let the teacher make 
. sure that the assignments are accurately learned, and that they 
are interpreted — not merely recited — in class with as much 
appreciation as can be aroused. 

OUTLINE FOR THE STUDY OF THE POEMS 

A. Purpose. 

1. Is the poem written to entertain, to enforce a belief of the 
author, or to impart a moral or spiritual truth? 

2. Is the purpose stated or merely implied? 

B. Plot. 

1. Does the poem tell a story, or is the appeal wholly to the 
emotions ? 

2. Are there digressions and episodes? 

3. Is there suspense? 

4. Does the story develop the characters? 

5. Tell the story as concisely as possible. 

C. Characters. 

1. Are there many or few? 

2. Are the characters stationary or developing? 

3. Are the lives and actions of the characters interrelated? 

4. Would you divide the characters into chief and subordinate ? 

5. What does the poet's portrayal of character reveal con- 
cerning his observation, his experience, his insight, his ideals? 

D. Setting. 

1. Where is the scene of the poem? When? 

2. Is there much description? If so, of what kind? Nature? 
Persons ? 

3. Is there local color? 

4. Your own estimate of the writer as a descriptive poet. 

E. Classification of the poem. 

1. Narrative? Lyric? Dramatic? Why? 

P. Style. 

1. In general. 

a. Is there humor, pathos, irony, beauty, grandeur? 

b. By what adjectives would you characterize the style? 

2. Contrast. 



93 SUGGESTIVE MATERIAL FOR THE TEACHER 

Is there much weighing of thoughts over against thoughts? 
Persons ? Words ? 

3. Use of words. 

a. Specific or general. 

b. Size of vocabulary. 

c. Colloquialisms, foreign words, barbarisms, etc. 

4. Allusions. 

5. Figures of Speech. 

6. Mood or spirit. 
G. Meter. 

1. Composition. 

2. Melody. 

H. Passages to be committed to memory, 
I. Critical opinions. 

1. Give substance of a few. 
1. Author's rank as compared with that of other poets of 
similar kind. 

(Compare Goldsmith with Collins, Gray, Johnson, Pope, Byron, 
Burns, Wordsworth. ) 

K. Your own estimate of the poet as revealed by his writings. 

THEMES 

If the prime object of the study of any division of literature 
is to develop the appreciative powers, a secondary but also 
important object is to train the pupils to talk and to write 
more effectively; and the best way to do this is by means of 
assigned themes on subjects taken from, or bearing upon, what- 
ever masterpiece is being read by the class. The following 
cautions may merit consideration by the teacher. 

A. Give time to oral themes. In life, talking is more im- 
portant than writing. Pay primary attention to matter. 

B. Be systematic as to written themes. Mark off themes 
handed in late. 

C. Do not assign more themes than you can look over. 

D. Assign vivid subjects, usually within the pupils' observa- 
tion, experience or reading. 

E. Often help the pupils to select their own subjects. 

F. Strive for variety in the selection and the treatment of 
subjects. Select subjects from all the school interests of the 
pupils. The teacher of composition has a rich opportunity to 
effect correlation between the various branches in the school 
curriculum. 



QUESTIONS 93 

G. Develop the idea of having a point to whatever is said 
or written. 

H. Have the pupils (correct one another's themes in class. 

I. Help pupils to detect their own errors. For this purpose 
personal interviews should be systematically arranged. 

J. Be sparing of red ink. Correct one thing at a time. En- 
courage. 

K. Foster reasonable individuality of expression. No two 
people talk just alike. 

L. Be free and natural in your own choice of English. " Ex- 
ample is better than precept." 

M. Do not strike out humor. Mark Twain belongs to litera- 
ture. 

N. Avoid discouragement both on your own part and on the 
part of your pupils. Do the best you can and be cheerful. 



QUESTIONS ON THE TRAVELLER 

Whom has Goldsmith in mind in the opening verses? What 
kind of man do you infer Henry Goldsmith to have been? 
Draw a distinction between his character and the poet's. Why 
are lines 23-29 especially pathetic? Is the poet's point of 
vantage on an Alpine height to be taken in a strictly literal 
sense? Draw an imaginary picture of the panorama that the 
poet sees. Show that lines 36-50 are didactic in tone. Is such 
didacticism or moralizing necessary to poetry? Wherein may it 
become a danger? Show by quotations from lines 62-80 that 
every land thinks itself the best. Which two lines of this pas- 
sage contain the lesson or purpose of the poem? Reproduce in 
detail the thought of lines 81-98. Give a detailed description 
of Italy respecting natural advantages and respecting the people 
themselves. Is the poet just in his description of a tropical 
people ? Compare nature's bounty to Switzerland with that to 
Italy. Compare also in detail the Swiss as a race, with the 
Italians. What inference do you draw concerning the beneficence 
of nature? What are the peculiar virtues and vices of France? 
What are the distinctive characteristics of the Dutch? Is the 
poet wholly just to them? How would you know that Gold- 
smith was an Englishman? What attribute of England appeals 
to him most? What weaknesses does he detect and deplore? 



94 SUGGESTIVE MATERIAL FOR THE TEACHER 

Comment upon their truth or their exaggeration. State in your 
own words the conclusion reached by the poet in his search for 
happiness. Do you agree with him? 

QUESTIONS ON THE DESERTED VILLAGE 

Give a general description of Auburn. What two pictures 
does the poet sharply contrast? Compare Auburn with your vil- 
lage or with one that you know well. Is the poet true to life? 
If not, has he a right to exaggerate? What is the poet's at- 
titude toward rural life? Is he sincere or affected in his senti- 
ments? What class of persons enlists his sympathies? Are his 
ideas about the increase of trade true? What place had the 
poet probably in mind when he penned lines 75-82, or the whole 
poem, for that matter? What is to be said pro and con con- 
cerning the viewing of Auburn as Lissoy? Are the details true 
to life or partly imaginative? Would you like to know the 
village preacher? What were his leading qualities? Contrast 
the schoolmaster with the preacher. Who is supposed to have 
suggested the former ? — the latter ? Why does the poet lament 
the destruction of the ale house? Reproduce this description 
in detail. In his comparison between the rich and the poor 
is Goldsmith wholly just? What is your opinion of such state- 
ments as, " Contentment comes from ignorance," " Rural life 
develops character better than does city life ? " Discuss the 
poet's ideas regarding the effect of an expanding commerce upon 
the English peasantry. Were Goldsmith's gloomy views regard- 
ing emigration borne out by fact? Comment upon the poet's 
views of the new world. What is the poet's idea of the function 
of poetry? Do the verses dealing with this point have a direct 
bearing on the rest of the poem? What reason can you advance 
for their introduction? 

QUESTIONS BASED ON BOTH POEMS 

What do The Traveller and The Deserted Village reveal about 
Goldsmith the man, — his knowledge, his sympathies, his preju- 
dices, his power of observation, his character? Cite passages 
from the poems to substantiate your opinions. Find instances 
of pathos, humor, grandeur, vividness of description — whether 
of persons or of sc«ies. Comment upon the selection and the ar- 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 95 

rangement of details. What is the test of vividness? Do you 
consider Goldsmith at his best as a portrayer of scenes or of 
character? Why? \^^hat principles of descriptive writing that 
you are already familiar with, does the poet use? Find ex- 
amples of a happy epithet, a vigorous turn of phrase. What 
general statement would you make concerning Goldsmith's choice 
and use of words? Collect examples of Goldsmith's use of per- 
sonification, simile, metaphor, apostrophe, metonymy. What 
conclusion do you reach concerning the poet's use of figures of 
speech? What is the purpose of figurative language? Is there 
any danger to be guarded against in its use? Comment upon 
Goldsmith's use of contrast (a) in thought, (b) in style. Dis- 
cuss the general structure of both poems respecting unity, pro- 
portion, coherence, emphasis. Give a final opinion concerning 
Goldsmith the poet, stating in detail the reasons for your con- 
clusions. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 
GENERAL CONDITIONS OF LIFE IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 

Boswell's Life of Johnson, 

Dobson's Eighteenth Century Vignettes. 

Lecky's History of England in the Eighteenth Century, 

Warner's Landmarks in English Industrial History, 

Gibbins' Industry in England. 

Green's Short History of the English People. 

TrailPs Social England. 

Aubrey's Rise and Growth of the English Nation. 

Besant's London in the Eighteenth Century. 

BIOGRAPHIES. 

Prior's Life of Oliver Goldsmith. 

Forster's Life and Adventures of Oliver Goldsmith. 

living's Life of Goldsmith. 

Black's Goldsmith. 

Dobson's Life of Oliver Goldsmith, 

Scott's Life of Goldsmith. 

E8SAYS. 

Macaulay's Miscellaneous Essays, 
Thackeray's English Humourists, 



96 SUGGESTIVE MATERIAL FOR THE TEACHER 

De Quincey's Eighteenth Century Scholarship and Litera- 
ture. 

Gayley^s Goldsmith in The World's Best Literature, 

Dowden's Introduction to Goldsmith's Poems in Ward's 
English Poets. 

Stephens' Estimate in Chamhers* Cyclopedia of English Lit- 
erature. 

Garnett and Gosse's Goldsmith in An Illustrated History of 
English Literature. 

Histories of English Literature by Pancoast, Moody and 
Lovett, Crawshaw, Craik, Johnson, Welsh, Taine, Brooke. 

For passages of stimulating criticism see also editions of 
one or all of Goldsmith's poems by Prior, Rolfe, Hales, 
Mitford, Dobson, Tupper, Pancoast. 

Dobson's Life of Goldsmith contains an exhaustive bibliog- 
raphy. 

HELPFUL BOOKS FOR THE TEACHER. 

Gummere's Handhooh of Poetics. 

Shairp's Aspects of Poetry. 

Hunt's What is Poetry? 

Chubb's The Teaching of English. 

Carpenter, Baker and Scott's The Teaching of English. 

Heydrick's How to Study Literature. 



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